The Half Life
by L.B.Dreamer5914
Summary: Quil Ateara made his choice a long time ago, fifteen years ago to be exact. Now she's back, the girl he loved enough to let go. Question is: does he have the strength to do it all again? First Fanfic
1. Prologue: Resolutions Made

_**The Half Life**_

**Prologue: Resolutions Made**

**By: L.B.Dreamer**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Claire, Quil, or, well, pretty much anything (unfortunately).**

Desperation.

Up until that moment, he didn't think he had ever known the true meaning of the word. Forcing himself back into a rational, logical mindset was certainly no easy task – especially not with Claire Anderson sitting contentedly on his lap, playing with his hands and giggling.

"Quil." She stated, jabbing him with one tiny finger in the chest. He caught her hand and looked down at her, so tiny, so fragile and so trusting. Not for the first time he cursed himself for imprinting on a two year old, and then realized he couldn't imagine _not _having imprinting on her.

Gravity, Jacob had called it.

Life itself, Quil had realized.

"It won't work." Embry's voice ran out from above him. His friend sounded tired, drained, an effect of having been in Quil's mind and thoughts for hours at a time. Quil's struggle wasn't only affecting him; it was slowly eating away at the rest of the pack, a fact that only made it more difficult.

"It has to work." Quil responded. "It's the only way. The only solution. She deserves a normal life."

_A life that doesn't involve a werewolf soul mate. _He added silently.

"You don't think she deserves to know?"

"I think she deserves the choice."

Jacob finally moved from his position against the doorway, "Quil. Be realistic, you've seen the way Sam and Emily are, the way Jared and Kim are, this won't work. You won't be able to stay away from her, anymore than she—"

"She won't remember me," Quil cut in, conviction strengthening his voice. "She's only _two._" Tormented eyes looked up at Jacob and Embry, and Quil shook his head again. "Emily and Kim were both old enough to _know _what they were getting into, to make at least some of the decision on their own. They got to have a normal childhood, and a normal 'high school' experience. If I stay with Claire…if I stay with her, she won't."

"So don't tell her about the pack."

Quil rolled his eyes, "Do you think she's stupid, Embry? You don't think she'll notice when she's sixteen and I still look the same as I did when she was six? I'd have to explain things to her."

Jacob shook his head, "I don't like this."

"Neither do I." His voice came out even, even though on the inside he was falling apart. Claire wasn't giggling or playing anymore, instead, the two year old was frowning up at him as though she sensed his mood. He gently turned her around so she was facing him.

"Claire…"

"What?" She prompted, large blue eyes peering up at him.

He drew a shuddering breath. "Claire, Jake is going to take you home now, alright?"

"See you tomorrow?"

He bit down on his bottom lip. Hard.

"No," his tone was strangled, "No, I'm sorry Claire, I've got to go on a trip."

"Why?"

He tapped her noise gently, "So you can be happy."

She frowned. "Happy?"

He nodded, standing up with her still in his arms. "Yes, Claire. Happy." He paused, "Do me a favor, ok?"

She nodded, her face still marred by a frown.

"Don't be sad. If you ever need me, I'll be around."

"Promise?"

He nodded, holding up his right hand. "Promise."

In a gesture of innocence, she placed one tiny hand against his. He choked back a ball of emotion, "Bye Claire," he said, handing her over to Jacob, "I'll be seeing you."

And before anyone could say one more thing, before he allowed himself to be convinced, before his resolve broke entirely and he grabbed her back from Jake, he tore out of the room; his feet pounding against the grass became paws, and he pushed harder against the wind.

Always wishing, always hoping, that everything would be alright.


	2. Chapter 1: Just a Dream

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter One: Just a Dream**

**By: L.B.Dreamer**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, Claire, or Quil. **

"You look like crap."

Seventeen-year-old Claire Anderson tossed her blond bangs out of her face as she slid the strap of her backpack down off her shoulder until the heavy object hit the floor with a loud 'thud.' Around her, similar sounds rang out, accompanied by the laughter and chatting of her peers and the slamming of locker doors.

"Thanks." She said sarcastically, slipping her AP Chemistry book onto her locker shelf as she glanced at her best friend, Vicki Clarkson, who stood beside her, leaning casually against the cold lockers with her choppy black locks framing her face at odd angles. "That was so uplifting. Always nice to hear how pretty I look on the first day of school."

"I do what I can," Vicki responded, the corners of her mouth pulling upward. "But really, you look like shit, what happened?"

"And again with the uplifting remarks. God, Vick, you should really try being an inspirational speaker or something." Claire rolled her eyes, tactfully avoiding the question.

Problem is that when you've been friends with the same person since you were four, they can pretty much read you like a book.

Yeah, life sucks.

"You had another dream again, didn't you?"

"I'm starting to seriously regret telling you about those dreams." Claire muttered under her breath, picking her black and white backpack back up off the floor and diving into the crowd.

"So you've been saying for the past – oh, three years?" Vicki grinned, easily keeping stride with her five foot friend. "Seriously, do you think you should go see some dream interpreter person? I mean, this whole dream thing is starting to get a little creepy."

"Just be grateful you're not the one who has them." Claire replied, "How much does it suck that we got stuck with Mr. Davis for homeroom? That guy is a psycho."

"And is currently standing right behind you."

Claire froze as the voice rang out from behind her, slowly, she turned around to face him. _Oh, crap._

Mr. Davis was a short man, in his late forties with a rapidly balding head and eyes that reminded Claire's of a rats. He was a grossly unfair teacher. Claire had aced all of tests last year, and yet when her grade had come in she had had a flat 'B.'

Infuriating, much?

"Uh—Mr. Davis, I—"

"Save it, Miss Anderson. It's too early to hand out detentions." He slipped past her and Claire let out a breath.

"That was way too close for comfort."

Vicki jabbed her in the side, "Well that's what you get for trying to avoid the subject. Tell me about the dream."

There was another resigned sigh on Claire's part before she finally gave in, she and Vicki tossing their stuff down on two seats in the back.

"It's just so…complicated…"

"Claire, you've been my best friend since before kindergarten, I know by now that life is 'complicated.' Just tell me about the damn dream already."

_Claire._

_The voice whispered her name, softly, oh so softly. It was the voice of a boy, not quite matured to the point of being raspy, or old, but far past the time of voice-cracking blunders. It was an enchanting voice, a gentle voice, that made Claire feel safe, protected. She felt as though she could follow that voice anywhere._

_Claire. The voice repeated. _

_She pushed her way through the thick woods, shoving branches and leaves out her eyes and carefully stepping over patches of mud. A crystal dew had settled over the forest and Claire could feel the wetness of it hit her skin each time her palm made contact with a tree or a branch._

"_Where are you?" She asked, pushing forward blindly._

"_I'm waiting."_

"_Waiting for what?"_

_She turned right; hoping, praying, that this time by some miracle she would find the owner of the voice. The voice, the oddly familiar voice that seemed to always haunt her dreams._

"_You."_

"_Why?" She asked again._

_There was no answer to her question, only silence. Desperation built steadily up inside of her, and she pushed her way harder, faster, as though she might somehow reach that voice, that comfort. As though this time, this dream, it wouldn't somehow slip through her fingers like the mist._

"_Where are you?!" She cried out._

"_Waiting." The voice repeated, much more distant this time._

"_Don't go!"_

"_I haven't moved." There was a note of sadness in the youthful voice, of disappointment, and Claire felt as though her heart had crumbled under the weight of it. Completely panicked now, she turned around, and pushed back._

"_Which way?!"_

_Anxiety coursed through her, sweat tricked down her forehead. She pushed harder. "I need you."_

"…_?" The voice didn't respond, but she could feel his confusion, feel his disoriented sense of mind. The silent, _you do?, _echoed within her as clearly as if it'd been spoken aloud._

"_I'm tired."_

_A flash of chocolate brown went past her, and she reached out to it, her hands moving blindly. "What's happening?" She cried out, her world suddenly turning darker, as though night had fallen in midmorning._

"_I'll protect you."_

"_Who are you?!"_

_The chocolate brown reappeared, slowly this time, so that after a moment of focusing her attention, she could finally make out its figure. It was huge in comparison to any animal she'd ever seen, to her own tiny frame, chocolate brown fur, and eyes to match. Eyes that seemed to see into her very soul, and that held a burning emotion that she couldn't understand. It was a wolf, an animal, and yet she felt as though it was the source of her comfort, as though…_

_Claire took a tentative step forward, and then another. The wolf's eyes never left her, they watched her with a mix of apprehension, regret and sadness. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why._

"_You." She said softly._

"_Me." The voice echoed in her mind._

_Slowly her hand reached out, the tips of her fingers inching slowly closer. But just as she almost reached him, just as she almost took hold of that comfort, of that feeling of wholeness, the dream was broken._

_Shattered._

_The wolf was strewn out on the floor, pain ricocheted up her arm. Claire shot up, instantly awakened by her own scream. _

"…That was basically it." Claire finished, noting that the room was filling up quickly and she was out of time. "Dream number one million and two."

Vicki just stared at her.

"What?"

The brunette shook her head, smiling slightly. "It's just so weird…I mean, honestly, who dreams about a telepathic _wolf_?!"

"I never said he was telepathic!" Claire protested feebly.

"Oh, no? So he just magically speaks to you? As if _that _is any more normal."

"No!" Claire shook her head, "It's like…when he looked at me…I could just tell…his face was so _human_."

"Oh, so he's a werewolf now?" Vicki seemed to be incredibly amused, and Claire glared at her friends.

"Look will you stop being snippy? This is killing me here; the same dream twice in a row, I could handle. But a dream that continues for _years_? That falls under the category of—"

"Really creepy?" Vicki cut in. At the look Claire gave her, she smiled apologetically, "Sorry, Claire, I just can't help it."

"I know," Claire slumped back against her chair in defeat, "It's just so real…These dreams, I mean, what am I supposed to make of them?"

"I don't know, Claire."

"When I'm in those dreams…" she groped for the right words, "When I'm talking to him, it's so weird it's like…it feels as though everything just falls into place. Like suddenly, life is that much fuller, that much better."

Vicki was silent for a second, then she smiled slightly, "You do realize that you're talking about a wolf right?"

Claire rolled her eyes and pushed her friend playfully, "I'm talking about a dream. But—"

Vicki glanced at something behind her, and in a loud voice called out, "Hey Matt! How's it going?"

Taking the cue, Claire immediately shut up and stopped talking about her dream. She spun around, then giggled at Matt Carter's shocked expression. Vicki hadn't bothered to hide her obvious dislike for her best friend's boyfriend, so saying Matt was surprised at her sudden friendliness was an understatement.

"Don't worry," Vicki said cheerfully, grabbing her purse and standing up, "I still hate you." She turned back to Claire, "I'm going to grab something out of the vending machine, you want?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Alright." Vicki brushed past Matt and Claire smiled at her confused and scowling boyfriend.

"She's crazy, I know."

He smiled a bit at that, "I still can't figure out why she hates me so much."

_Well, for one she says that your being a nice guy is all an act, that all you really want is to get into my pants, that your incredibly superficial, oh, and she also thinks you're a pansy and a mama's boy. _Internally, Claire was shaking her head in amusement. Vicki was definitely quite the character and Claire couldn't count the number of times she tried to get her to break up with Matt.

But the way Claire saw it, until he proved himself to be any or all of the above, there was no point in breaking up with him. Matt was pretty much your typical heart throb, tall, muscular, athletic, with gorgeous blue eyes and thick lashes. His relationship with Claire had proved to be just as cliché as his story-book looks; they'd been paired up for a school project a year ago and voila, the middle-class high school girl had started dating the school's king.

"Like I said, she's crazy." Claire said, sitting down on the top of her desk so she could face him. Matt glanced around for any sight of Mr. Davis, then dropped a quick kiss on her lips.

"How long have you been here?"

Claire shrugged, "A half an hour-ish. I haven't really been keeping track. What about you?"

"About an hour, the guys and I were practicing."

"Already?"

"Mm." Was all he said, "What were you two talking about when I came over here, it looked pretty intense."

Immediately, Claire was on red-alert. Vicki was the only one she had ever told about her dreams, when she'd attempted to tell her mother, Hilary Anderson had freaked out and practically started hyperventilating. Claire did _not _want to go under cross examination from her boyfriend, especially since she didn't trust him nearly enough to have even the smallest desire to tell him.

Maybe it was superficial, but in all her time dating, Claire could never see any of her boyfriends as anything more than temporary companions. Not one of them had ever held her attention – or her affection – enough to see them as anything more.

"It was nothing."

"Claire, that didn't look like—"

She shook her head, jumping off the desk and pushing past him. "It was nothing."

"Then why are you running away?" He called after her, looking upset.

Was it bad that she couldn't care less? "I'm going to find Vicki, I'll see you later Matt."

As soon as Claire arrived home that night, she could sense that something was off. Her mother, who always made it a point to keep the house looking immaculate, hadn't cleaned at all. There was no food to snack on as there always was, and instead of greeting Claire with a smile on her face, Hilary didn't even look up from her phone conversation.

"Mom?"

"Hold on, Claire." Hilary snapped, and obediently, Claire shut up, surprised.

What the heck was going on? And who was that on the phone?

"I think I know what's best for my daughter, Emily, and that's not it!"

_Emily?_ As in her _aunt _Emily? Claire's frown deepened, ever since her mother had had a falling out with her aunt Emily fifteen years ago after Claire had visited La Push, they hadn't talked. Claire couldn't fathom a reason as to why Emily would call now, much less one that had to do with her.

There was a moment of silence before, "Yes, Claire's here. No, you may not. I won't have that…that…" Hilary glanced at her daughter and then seemed to amend whatever she'd been planning to say, "I won't have those…dogs of your husband's friends around my daughter."

_Dogs? _Claire rolled her eyes; her mother really needed to work on her insults. "Mom," she attempted to catch her mother's attention, "What's going on?"

"Not now Claire! No, Emily she's not going! I don't care if she's seventeen or seven, she's not going!"

Emily wanted her to go to La Push? Silently, Claire weighed the idea. She would miss most or all of her senior year in high school, have to leave her friends, her family. Every aspect she focused on there seemed to be one more con to the idea, and yet, the more she thought about it, the more she liked it.

She was so very sick of life here in upstate New York, so very sick of her daily routines, of everything. So very sick of feeling like she was missing something key, and not being able to figure out what it was.

"I want to go."

It was funny how, when she'd been practically screaming her mother's name, she'd been ignored, but when she gave that soft-spoken announcement, her mother fell deathly silent.

"_What?" _The incredulous question was barely above a whisper, and Claire did her best to look nonchalant.

"I want to go to La Push, to stay with Aunt Emily."

"But, but Claire…" her mother was sputtering, "What about…what about school? Your friends?"

"I have a cell phone, and it's not like La Push is somewhere out in the middle of the Atlantic. And school, I can talk to my teachers, take my classes online or something. Or, I could go to school there."

"No. No, no. It's your senior year, absolutely not."

Claire rolled her eyes, "Mom, I want to go. I'm going to go."

"With whose permission?" Some of the spark finally came into her mother's eyes, "Because you certainly don't have mine."

It seemed as though her mother had forgotten that she was still holding the phone, but Emily must have said something because her mother snapped back,

"Yes, she does. God, just hold on a second Emily. Fine. Yes, goodbye." Her mother hung up the phone, and Claire was surprised it didn't break under the applied pressure.

"I'm turning eighteen in two months," Claire reminded her as gently as possible, "Which means in two months, I won't need your permission."

Hilary gaped at her daughter, coming to sit by her daughter at the table. "Claire…you wouldn't honestly…"

"Yes I would. Mom, I really want to go. I can't explain why, but I do. Something about it just feels right, besides, I'm sick of the same thing everyday. Let me go."

Her mother reached out to hold her hand. "Honey, is this…did you have a fight with Matt? Have you been having another one of your…well, another one of your moments?"

'Moments' as her mother had so delicately put it, referred to Claire's tendency to go through random bouts of loneliness, which of course involved lots of sobbing. It was odd, because by nature, she was a very upbeat person, but since she could remember, she'd been having them. The first time, it had been Christmas, she had been watching _'Balto' _and promptly burst into hysterical tears when, at the very end, Balto arrives with the medicine to save Rosie. Her mother hadn't known what to make of it after her she spent three days curled up in her bed, feeling as though there was not a person in the world who loved her.

Hilary, unused to feeling helpless for long periods of time, had taken her to see a shrink immediately. The verdict? She wasn't depressed, had no diagnosable illness, in fact she was as healthy as they came. Something must have just set her off.

Funny then, how she'd continued having those random spurts of what she hated calling 'depression' for years. So it wasn't entirely uncalled for that Hilary ask if she was having a 'moment' but it bothered her nonetheless.

"No, Mother, I am not having a 'moment.'"

"Because, darling, it's alright. You don't have to travel across the country just to get out of a phase."

"Oh, God. Mom! Are you listening to me? I'm not depressed! I'm fine. But I want to go. What's the big deal with letting me go? Emily's my _aunt, _and you always used to say that she had a big heart. I'm sure she won't neglect me or anything. Let me _go_."

"No."

"Why _not_?!" Claire couldn't believe her mother's irrationality, couldn't comprehend what the problem was.

"Because!" Her mother snapped, "I've worked to hard to keep you away, to keep you _safe_! I'm not going to let that all go down the drain now, because of some stupid phase!"

"It's not a stupid phase, mom! I need to go! I don't know why, but I do. I want to go. I need to get out of here, you're suffocating me. What is there to keep me safe from with Aunt Emily?! She isn't a murderer, or a thief, or a bad person at all."

"When you grow up, you'll under—"

"I _am _grown up, mom! Don't you see me, I'm seventeen? I'm seventeen and you treat me like I'm made of glass." Realizing that she was losing her temper, Claire forced herself to calm back down. Screaming her lungs out wasn't going to help her cause at all, being rational, on the other hand, just might. "Look, Mom. You are completely entitled to enforce upon me whatever rules and regulations you have for now. But I'm going. Now, or a month from now, what's the difference? Other than if I wait until I'm eighteen, I'll be leaving with both of us mad at each other." She could see her mother opening her mouth to protest, but she stood up slowly, "I'm not asking you to give me an answer now. Just think about it, Mom. This is something – and again, I don't know why – but I feel like I have to do. So just think about it, ok?" She leaned over, kissing her mother's cheek. "Love you."

Claire smiled, then made her exit and climbed up the stairs to her room, wondering if she should start packing now, or wait.

"Claire!" Hilary's voice called. Claire turned to glance at her mother, her eyes wide in feigned confusion,

"Yeah, Mom?"

"You can go." She said the words softly, hesitantly, and Claire knew that deep down, she still didn't want to let her go. "As long as you get your father's permission."

Claire grinned. "Thanks Mom!" She ran back to hug her mother, then took up full speed up the stairs.

_Now it is, _she thought and pulled out her suitcase.


	3. Chapter 2: The House of Weird

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Two: The House of Weird**

**By: L.B.Dreamer**

Claire hated planes.

A lot.

And so by the end of her flight from New York City to Seattle, she was questioning her sanity and wondering what drug she had taken before making her decision to go to La Push.

She was feeling slightly nauseous as she stumbled off the plane, carry on in one hand, and her ticket and her purse in the other. God, she really hated flying.

Claire stopped for a moment, pushing her long blond hair out of her face in annoyance and scanning the crowd, praying that Emily was somewhere close.

Her aunt was easy to pick out, most notably because of the large scar that covered one side of her face. Claire felt her heart sink at the sight of it and, annoyed at herself, she carefully averted her eyes back to her aunt's other features. She could only imagine how frustrating it was for Emily to have people stare at the mark constantly but it was so unusual that Claire almost couldn't help it.

_How did she get that? _She couldn't remember her mother ever clarifying how her aunt had gotten injured but, then again, she'd never pushed the subject. Shaking her head, she shifted her purse onto her shoulder and waved her ticket in the air like a flag.

"Emily! Aunt Emily!"

Her aunt spun around at the sound of her name, face erupting into a welcoming smile that Claire felt her own lips reflect. In a second, she was wrapped up in a hug.

"God, Claire! You've gotten so big!"

"I hope so," Claire said with a laugh, "The last time you saw me, I was two."

"Let me look at you." Her aunt ordered, pushing her back and giving her a quick look over. "I'm having a hard time believing you're my niece."

Claire laughed, shaking her head. In all honestly, they didn't look at all related. Claire had taken after her father entirely in the looks department. Long, wavy blond hair the fell well past her shoulders to a little below her waist, pale skin, almond shaped blue eyes and pink lips. Her mother bore a remarkable resemblance to Emily; both women had copper skin and straight black hair. Claire's sister had the same skin tone and hair color and more often then not, Claire had found herself feeling bland standing beside them.

"I swear." She said with a smile as she held up her right hand, "I'm your niece."

Emily smiled again, pulling her back into a hug.

"Claire?" A deep voice remarked, a noticeable tremor running through it. "_Claire?_"

Claire struggled out of her aunt's hold, turning to look at the newcomer. Enormously tall, with a mop of dark hair and concerned eyes, something in her memory flashed and she tilted her head to one side.

"Sam?" It was a more a question then a statement.

He nodded, lips parted in disbelief. "_Claire_?" He asked again.

"Yes?" She glanced at Emily nervously, "Um, surprise?"

Emily gave her a reassuring hug, one arm slipping around her waist. Sam's gaze shifted from his adopted niece to his wife,

"We're picking _Claire_ up from the airport?"

"Yes." Emily said, pronouncing the word slowly, as though he might not comprehend. All things considered, Claire was thinking he might not anyway.

"You didn't tell me?" He sounded a little strangled, and, despite her fear of planes, Claire was wondering if she should be getting back on one.

"No." Her aunt shrugged nonchalantly, "I couldn't."

"You couldn't?"

"No, then everyone would know."

Claire's brow furrowed, _huh_? "Got a big mouth, Uncle Sam?" The title 'uncle' seemed to have some trouble rolling off her tongue and she frowned, shaking her head. "Sam?"

He nodded in agreement, "Uh…right…I…"

"He's overjoyed to see you again, is what he is." Emily rolled her eyes, stepping forward and giving her husband a little push. "Now, let's get going. You need to get back before dark, and I'm sure Claire's tired."

"Very." Claire agreed with a half smile, still uncertain as to what had just happened. Sam was looking a little green and kept shaking his head saying something that sounded like, 'he's going to kill me.'

Claire let Emily take the lead, trailing after her aunt and uncle with a slight frown. _This is very, very weird. _

-

She slept the entire ride to La Push, lulled to sleep by Sam and Emily's quiet whispers and her own half-hearted attempts at making conversation. Sam took her bags into the house, and Emily provided support as she stumbled up the stairs, onto her assigned bed, and fell back to sleep.

That was where she woke up, several hours later. Yawning, she rolled over onto her stomach, reading the green digits of the digital clock.

2:34a.m.

_Oh, crap. Mom and Vicki are going to kill me._

The house was completely dark and she hadn't the slightest clue where anything was so it took a few minutes of stumbling around the room blindly to find the light switch. She winced as light flooded the room, shielding her eyes under the palms of her hands for a moment before setting out to find her cell phone.

When at last she found the phone, all hopes for continued life were squashed.

**16 missed calls.**

_Oh, shit._

She was about to dial Vicki – whom she figured would put her to a less torturous end – when she was interrupted by the sound of several pairs of feet slamming against the wooden floor downstairs, accompanied by a mess of deep voices.

_Who is visiting this late?_

Claire frowned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and pulling her door open. Quietly, she made her way down the hallway and to the top of the staircase.

"Where's Sam been all day? He didn't make rounds with us today." One voice asked.

"We have a visitor here," Emily replied easily, "He was busy."

"Visitor? Who?" Another voice asked.

"Family member." Emily said, this time a little more stiffly. "You boys hungry?"

"Of course."

By now, she was practically standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Emily stood at the counter, hands covered in something that looked like flour and face turned toward the window. At the table where three huge figures. One had long glossy black hair, brown eyes, and a small smile on his face. Another had hair that fell just to his shoulders and an amused smirk that made Claire think of trouble. But despite all of them being equally huge and imposing one in particular made her stop still.

He was sitting at the corner of the table with his legs, which were much too long to actually tuck underneath the wooden top, stretched out in front of him, one slightly bent. His skin was tanned at least three shades darker then hers, and his eyes, colored a dark hazel, seemed to jump out at her. His black hair was cut short, and he wore an impish grin that made her want to smile. Handsome didn't begin to describe him; to Claire, the boy was perfect. Something about his presence made Claire feel safe and protected and she wondered if she had known him before; there was something eerily familiar about him that drew her in.

Every one of them seemed to have been caught somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, youth and maturity mixing in their features.

"Where's that food, Em?" The one with shoulder length hair asked, leaning forward onto the table.

"Coming, Embry." Emily said with a shake of her head as she turned around, plate of steak in balanced in her just-washed hands.

The sound of Claire's stomach echoed around the kitchen.

She flushed a deep red as Emily froze and the three boys snapped to attention.

"E-Excuse me, I just heard voices and I thought—"

"So you're the family member Emily was hiding," Embry said with a grin, standing up and nearly knocking the chair backward with his large figure. "Embry Call, nice to meet you."

Her eyes, which had been focused on the suddenly pale figure she'd previously admired, shifted to look at the other boy. Tentatively, she slipped her hand into his finding that it nearly disappeared. Almost immediately, warmth spiraled up her arm and through her entire body. Her eyes bulged but he didn't seem to notice. _Oh my god, his hand is burning! _ "Claire Anderson." She replied tentatively.

Embry dropped her hand like fire.

"Shit!" The boy with long hair dropped his fork and it clattered against the countertop. Claire's eyes snapped to him and he colored slightly. "Sorry. Uh, Jacob Black, we've met before."

"We have?" She asked, her gaze involuntarily shifted back to the one unnamed figure.

"When you visited last. You were two."

She nodded slightly, "Right."

"Quil," Jacob ground out, nudging his friend with his elbow. "Say hello to Claire."

It reminded Claire of the way a mother reprimanded her child for being manner less, and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. Clearly, she hadn't made much of an impression on the boy – on Quil.

"Quil?" She asked, surprised at the oddity of the name. It would have seemed strange had it belonged to anyone else, but somehow it seemed to fit. "I like it." The color of her blush deepened, as if that were even possible. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

When it became evident that Quil, who was sitting absolutely frozen in his seat looking at her with an emotion she couldn't quite name, was not going to move she walked over to stand before him.

"Nice to meet you. Er, re-meet you?" She held out her hand, and he stared at it as if she'd just offered him something offensive. Feeling supremely self-conscious, she began to withdraw her hand but he abruptly burst up and out of his seat, breathing as though he had just run a marathon as he bolted from the room.

Eyes wide, she stared after him. "Wha…?"

"Shit," Embry muttered, echoing Jacob's earlier sentiment. He shared a sidelong glance at the other boy, then looked down at his steak wistfully.

"We should go after him." Jacob said when it became apparent Embry wouldn't say anything.

"Yeah," Embry said, his tone longing as he looked once more at his plate, "We should."

Jacob rolled his eyes, gripping Embry by the shoulder and forcing him out the door. The dark eyed boy looked back at Emily and Claire.

"I'll see you later, Emily."

Emily gave a stiff nod and a weak smile and Claire shifted feet again, once again feeling like the intruder. She had thought he was going to ignore her but instead he stopped in the doorway to toss a glance back.

"Claire?" She met his gaze, eyes wide. He smiled kindly, "Welcome back."

It took about two minutes of standing still as a statue before Claire finally snapped back into reality and sunk down into one of the vacated chairs. "Ok, that was weird. Really weird." Her questioning gaze lifted to her aunt. "Aunt Emily?"

"Quil can be a little sensitive."

"Right. So did I scare him?"

"Would it make sense if I said kind of?"

"Not really." Claire shook her head, "Really, what did I do? Did I bite him or something the last time I was here?"

Emily burst out laughing, hand gripping the side of the counter. "Hardly. Although you did make quite an impression."

"I did?"

"Mm. You did."

"So why did he run away from me?" It was too late to be doing this. Or rather, it was too early. Claire glanced at the clock.

3:00a.m.

She sighed, burying her face in her hands. "I am so confused."

Emily shrugged, turning back to her cooking and serving another plate before coming to sit beside Claire at the table. She placed the plate in front of her niece and handed her a fork. "Eat."

In no mood to argue, Claire obediently dug into her food, mind swimming with questions. "Um, Aunt Emily?"

"Hm?"

"Embry's hand…"

"Yes…?"

"It was burning hot. Is he sick? He didn't look sick…"

Emily's face slipped into panic for only a second before it smoothed back over. "No. He isn't sick."

When it became apparent she wasn't going to offer any more information, Claire groaned, pushing back her plate. "God, could you all be anymore cryptic? I've only been here for half a day and I've slept through most of it but somehow I'm still feeling completely lost."

Her aunt smiled sympathetically before pushing the steak back in front of her, "I know it's confusing. Really, I do. I wish I could explain it all to you, but really, that's not up to me."

"Who's it up to?"

"Sam. Quil. The other boys."

"So what can you tell me?" Claire groaned, head hitting the wall as she leaned backwards.

"Not much," Emily admitted, "How about you ask, and I'll see if I can answer."

"Why did Quil run away from me?"

"Can't answer."

_Figures. _"Why was Embry's hand so hot?"

"Um…it's something genetic. All the boys run that temperature. Sam. Quil, Embry, Jacob, Jared, Paul… Oh, and Leah."

"You keep referring to them as a unit," Claire noted, "How come? Are they around each other all the time or what?"

"Well," Emily began slowly, hand tracing a pattern in the tablecloth, "I guess you could say that they work together."

"Work together." Claire repeated flatly, "Doing what exactly?"

"They're the guardians of La Push."

"Guardians?" She asked, brow furrowed. "Like the police?"

"Sort of. Next question."

"How old is Quil?" She blurted the question before her brain even processed it and as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she colored. Of all the questions she could have asked, that most certainly was **not **the most important. Whether or not Quil was too old for her shouldn't matter.

It didn't matter. She was just curious, that was all.

Emily shook her head slightly, smiling in a knowing way that made Claire want to run and hide. "He's twenty."

"Twenty? He almost looks younger. Are Jacob and Embry the same age?"

"Yes." Emily said, smile still firmly set in place. "Why so curious?"

"No reason," Claire replied quickly, taking a sudden interest in the steak in front of her. "So, Emily, er, Aunt Emily—"

"It's ok." Emily cut in quickly, rolling her eyes, "You didn't exactly grow up knowing me as an Aunt. Whatever's more comfortable for you is fine."

"Right." Claire said, feeling awkward, "Why are you and my mom fighting?"

"We're not fighting, exactly we're just—"

"Agreeing not to talk to each other unless absolutely necessary?" Claire supplied, sarcastically. "Come on, Emily, I'm seventeen, not seven. This whole 'shelter the child' thing is getting really old."

Emily nodded her assent, pushing back from the table and making her way back to the sink, Jacob's half-eaten steak in hand. Claire was just starting to feel guilty about the way she'd pried when her aunt spoke up again, "She didn't approve of Sam."

"So you guys stopped talking? That's so stupid. Besides, how could she not like Sam? He's…well, he's Sam."

"You see this scar?" Emily pointed to the jagged red lines streaking down the side of her face. For the first time, Claire allowed herself to really study the scar. It covered the right side of her face and ran from her hairline to her chin. Three line that were colored a bright red, almost as if they were still healing."In a way, I think she blames him for it. I know better."

"Sam would never hurt you." She may have only known the man for a few hours, but any fool could see the open adoration in Sam Uley's eyes every time he was with his wife.

"No," Emily agreed, "It wasn't his fault. But your mother didn't see it that way. She blamed him for it, and she let her resentment spread out until she didn't want to ever hear of La Push again."

"So why did she let me and Abby come here?"

When her parents had divorced, Abby had gone to live with their father and Claire didn't see much of her sister because of it. It hurt more then she wanted to acknowledge.

"That was the last straw for her, I think. When you went back and she found out how you'd immersed yourself so completely in with La Push and everything about it, she was furious. I think she looks at you and she sees what happened to me. She's worried you'll get hurt."

Claire snorted, "How? So far, everyone's been civil to me, welcoming even. Except Quil, but he ran away from me so somehow, I don't think he'll be out to get me."

Emily laughed softly, "Don't worry about Quil. He'll get over it eventually."

"I just wish I knew what 'it' was." Claire mumbled, putting on her best set of puppy eyes and looking up at her aunt, "Please tell me?"

Emily shook her head. "Nope. Sorry."

"Pretty, pretty, please?"

"Still no." Emily rinsed off the dishes before carefully putting each in the dishwasher. She glanced at the clock before glancing back at her niece, "You should go to sleep."

"You sound eerily like this woman back home I call 'mom.' Why is that, I wonder?"

"We share some genes." Emily said with a wink, "But really, you should. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I do?"

"Mm."

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Well, you get to meet the rest of the gang. Or re-meet, as it were."

"Will Quil be there?" _Oh, crap. _

Had she honestly just said that aloud? Really, since when did that filter between her brain and her mouth stop working? She had _meant _to say 'will they all run away from me, too?' Yeah, that hadn't gone as planned.

Emily's smile widened. "Yes. Made quite an impression didn't he?"

Claire forced a smile. "Of course, it isn't every day you see a cute guy going running away from this face."

Her aunt laughed. "Good night, Claire."

"Good morning, Emily." She tossed back, dropping her plate onto the counter before turning and exiting the room.

For once, she looked forward to the dreams.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, I'm having surgery this week so I've been crazy busy. Hopefully, it won't be so long till the next update.**


	4. Chapter 3: Nice to Meet You, Too

_**The Half Life  
**__**  
**_**Chapter Three: Nice To Meet You, Too **

**By: L.B.Dreamer**

_She could see him there, standing just across from her at the end of the dock. A smile pulled at pink lips and she called out, the name bursting soundlessly out of her mouth. He didn't turn around at the sound of her call, and yet her smile never faltered. _

_She bounced, excited, from heel to heel with all the grace of a ballerina, blond hair swaying back and forth. When it became apparent that he hadn't heard her series of calls, a pout settled upon her lips. She frowned, eyes eyeing the water hesitantly, as though she were nervous. _

_Blue eyes filled with determination, she bounded down off the first step and onto the wooden dock. He didn't appear to have even felt an impact._

_Her mouth moved again, saying his name, no doubt, and she pushed forward, each step causing her to smile wider. And then, suddenly, she was thrown back. Just when she had been so close, so very close, it was as though a wall had sprung up between them and forced her back, palms scrapping against the wooden dock._

_She screamed._

_Finally, he turned, only slightly, to her._

"_Why are you here?" He asked, his deep voice reverberating through her entire body. A mist had settled over everything, and she couldn't even make out the shape of his eyes. _

"_I-I wanted to—" She stopped in mid sentence, a harsh blush coming over her cheeks. Her nose eventually turned up indignantly, "To see you."_

"_Why?" He asked again, a strange note of sadness in his voice. "You don't think that what's done is done?"_

_She shrugged, coming back to her feet and pushing off her scratched palms. "Everyone deserves a second chance, don't you think?"_

"_Maybe."_

"_Why didn't you come to me?" She asked finally, her arms coming around her small frame as though to shield it from the cold._

_He shrugged. "I was afraid."_

"_Of what?" She asked, hand reaching out, fingers testing the air, feeling for the wall that she feared would remain. _

"_That you wouldn't need me. That you wouldn't have me. That you wouldn't have everything you've ever wanted."_

_She frowned, blond hair falling across her shoulders and into her face. "Why would having you mean losing what I've always wanted? Don't you see? You _are _what I've always wanted."_

"_You don't know the truth."_

"_What truth?" She asked, but the words hadn't finished coming out of her mouth before that invisible wall sprang up again, launching her back so far that her back came down hard upon the stairs. She cried out in pain, reached an arm up to him._

_He didn't so much as turn around as he launched his body into the water._

Claire's eyes flew open wide as the upper half of her body launched herself straight up from the comfortable, plush mattress. She forced herself to breath as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings, hand over her heart. It took her a few minutes to recall exactly where she was and that the dream, or the nightmare really, hadn't really happened.

But it had _seemed _so real.

It had truly seemed that all she had to do was reach out her hand and she would have touched the gentle fabric of the boy's cotton shirt, would have been beside him. But then that wall…

A sigh escaping from between pursued lips, she leaned back onto the head board of her bed, head banging against the cold wood. _I dreamt about a boy, not a wolf, a boy. _

And truth be told, she had felt that there was something familiar about that boy. The tone, the voice, had been the same as that of the wolf. But he was a _boy_, not an animal by any means but a _boy_.

"Damn it," she swore softly under her breath, "you're losing it, Claire." She shook her head, hand going to her forehead and pushing back an array of stray strands of hair. It was the middle of November and it was cold, so as she kicked her feet out from underneath the blankets, and pulled a huge sweatshirt – one of her father's – over her head.

Her baggy pajama pants completed her casual ensemble, and she stumbled out of the room with her cell phone in hand, mind still completely engrossed in her dream.

Which is why, when Vicki called a total of one minute later, she picked up saying,

"I've lost it, Vick. I've completely lost it. I'm crazy."

To which her friend replied, "Of course you are. I could have told you that a long time ago. Actually, I think I _have _told you that."

"Vicki! C'mon I'm being serious here, I've really lost it."

"It's ok," Vicki cooed as though talking to a child, "Aunt Vicki is here, tell me what happened."

"Shut up," Claire snapped, despite the smile that erupted on her lips, "I had another dream."

A sigh greeted her from the other end, "Another one? Same one?"

"No. Not the same one."

"Not the same one?!" Suddenly, she didn't sound quite so bored. "Tell me, tell me, tell me."

"There's this boy…" After Claire had recounted every single detail of her dream, she sunk into a comfortable arm chair in what she assumed was Emily and Sam's living room. "But the weird thing is, it's almost like he and the wolf are the same person."

"Beg to differ, Claire, but the wolf isn't actually a person."

"You know what I mean! Their tone is the same, this hopeless, desperate, sad tone… and the other thing is, something about the boy's presence reminded me of someone…"

"Who?"

"This guy I met yesterday."

"Man, you've been busy."

Claire would have stamped her foot, but she thought better of it and instead cried, "Ugh! Would you stop I need the serious Vicki! There is something seriously weird going on here!"

"Alright, alright. Serious Vicki is here; hit me." And so she explained, in depth, the appearance of the three boys the days before and their bizarre reactions. As she waited for the deep analysis she'd assured herself Vicki would be able to supply all she got was,

"Yeah, that is weird. But Claire, your entire life has been something entirely bizarre within itself. Don't over think things. So the guy runs a high temperature, so what? You're abnormally cold all the time, why can't someone be abnormally hot?" At which point Vicki giggled a little bit at how her last statement had sounded.

"Vicki!"

"I'm sorry. Really, truly, I'm sorry. I just can't help it!"

So Claire hung up the phone in defeat, dialed her mother and put the phone down across the room to wait for Hilary to stop screaming, and then hung up again.

"Life sucks." She muttered, collapsing onto the couch and slamming her head against something hard. Frowning and rubbing the back of her head, she propped herself up and turned to see what it was and found a hardcover book wedged in between the cushions and the armrest. "Damn it," she tossed the book onto the loveseat across from her, "life really does suck."

"Claire?"

The voice was only vaguely familiar and she frowned again, turning to see who was speaking to her. Jacob Black filled up the entire door frame but, despite his intimidating and hulking frame, she could see the unease that filled him as he shifted from one foot to the other and then back. The frown on her face deepened; out of everyone she'd run into so far he had been the last one she expected to come stop in for a visit.

Slowly, she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the couch so that she was facing him. "Jacob, right?" She questioned even though she remembered him perfectly. She'd replayed the meeting with him, Embry and Quil over and over in her mind since they'd left last night.

"Yeah. Jacob Black." He stretched out his hand to help her stand and when she took it, she realized Emily had been right. He ran the same ridiculously high temperature that Embry did.

"Right." She said awkwardly, all too aware of the silence. "Are you looking for Sam?"

"Uh, no, actually. I wanted to talk to you."

"To me?"

"Yeah."

"About what, exactly?"

"Er, last night. I wanted to apologize for the way the three of us ran out on you. Must have struck you as a little odd."

"A little, yeah," she admitted, still unsure what he was getting at.

"Yeah, so, I… I just wanted to apologize for that… running out on you, I mean. It was kinda rude."

"You drove over here to apologize?" Somehow, she found that hard to believe.

"It's just, Quil…"

Ah yes, the mysterious and ever elusive Quil. "Does he have a problem with me?"

Jacob seemed surprised at her abrupt question, and shook his head quickly, "No."

Too quickly, Claire thought. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not, I swear."

"Then why did he bolt? Because you and Embry didn't seem to care all that much about seeing me, but he… He was something else entirely."

Jacob ran a hand through his hair, walking to the door and then walking back over to stand in front of her again. She almost wanted to smile at how transparent he was when it came to his emotions; she could read so easily in his face that he wanted to say something but that didn't know if he could.

To think she had only known him for a few hours.

"It's just… Quil's stuff… it's really not for me to talk about, you know? He's my best friend and he'll probably kill me when he finds out that I came over here. He's all about space." He spread his arms out in emphasis.

"Space?" Claire asked, cocking an eyebrow as she brushed past Jacob, motioning for him to follow as she headed into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator.

"Yeah, you know, for you."

"Space? For me? Who said I needed space?"

"He just doesn't want you to feel like we're forcing you into anything." Jacob stated, shaking his head as Claire offered him a can of soda and boosting himself up onto the countertop.

"Forcing me into anything?" Claire repeated, aware that she sounded like a parrot. "Like what?"

He was making it sound like they were in some sort of dangerous gang and they were going to force her into something illegal. It was ridiculous, really. She had just arrived from another state, why the hell would she need _space_? What she needed were friends.

Jacob scratched the back of his neck, shifting again, "Yeah, well… here at La Push, everyone is pretty set in their ways, you know? Everything is always pretty routine here."

"So he doesn't like me because I'm breaking routine?" Claire guessed.

"No, no! He likes you. It's just he's afraid that we're trying to force you into staying here. I know Emily hasn't told you anything, but I also know that she's hoping you'll decide that this is where you want to be. That this is home."

"Really?"

"Sure, even if you were two when you were here last, you really…connected with everyone. Everyone here was pretty down when you left."

"How do you even know that?" Claire questioned, popping open her can of Pepsi and relishing in the fact that her mother wasn't around to tell her that soda for breakfast was completely inappropriate, "I mean, if I was two then you were what? Five?"

"Five?!" The surprise in his face was obvious, "What gave you that idea?"

"Um, Emily told me that all of you were twenty. I'm seventeen so that would make you… Well then, how old are you?"

His expression changed into one of alarm, but it smoothed over so quickly that she wondered if she had imagined things. "Oh, right. Ignore me. I thought… Yeah, I'm twenty."

"Right." Claire said, shaking her head. _So weird._

"Aw, hell. He really is going to kill me." Jacob muttered, running a hand over his face.

"Who, Quil?"

"Yeah."

"So don't tell him."

"I won't have to, he'll know."

"How? Is he a mind-reader or something?" She was only joking, but Jacob nodded.

"Yeah, something like that."

_Really weird. _"Ok then." She said, for lack of better thing to say. "So Quil is all about giving me space, huh?"

"Yeah." He looked relieved that she had dropped their previous conversation, "So don't mind him if he's a little cold and distant. He'll get over it eventually, I swear."

"How long do you think?" She prompted.

"For what?" He asked and Claire sighed. _Men are so retarded sometimes._

"For him to get over it."

"Oh, right. I don't know. But until then, Embry and I can help you out with anything you need. Speaking of which, Emily asked me to bring you over for the meeting."

"The meeting?"

Jacob shrugged, "It's just something we do… Everyone gets together at my house on Saturday mornings… We thought you might want to come and meet the pa, er, gang."

"The pa-er-gang?" She laughed slightly, "Quite the little name you guys have got there."

He looked away, scratching the back of his neck. She laughed again, shaking her head.

"I was only teasing. Anyways, sure I'd love to meet the 'gang.'" Claire agreed easily, heart pounding in anticipation. She flashed him a brilliant smile, "Just give me a second to go change."

He nodded and she bolted up the stairs. Flipping open her suitcase, she tore it apart before finally settling on something to wear. Once changed, she brushed her teeth, ran her comb through her hair and tore downstairs again. Jacob was in the exact same position as he'd been when she'd left him, toying with a bottle of water. He glanced up when she came in,

"Ready?"

She nodded. "Yep."

Claire followed him out of the house, down the steps and to his car. It was a ridiculously large truck and she had to brace herself before propelling her frame into the front seat.

"So," she began, suddenly finding her fingernails incredibly fascinating. "This…gang, of yours… how many of you are there, exactly? Emily called you guys 'the guardians of La Push.'"

He shrugged almost apologetically. "I guess you could call us that," he said, eyes scanning the road. "And there are eleven of us. Sam, Quil, Embry, Seth, Leah, Jared, Paul—"

"Do you expect me to remember all of those names?" She cut in, lips twitching. "Because I have to tell you, I'm horrible at remembering people's names."

He glanced over at her, smiling. "You remembered me."

She shrugged, "Yeah, well, you three made a pretty memorable exit last night. Embry acted like _my _hand was the one that was abnormally hot, you dropped your fork and swore, and Quil ran away. I felt like I was the bride of Frankenstein or something."

He laughed lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "You just surprised us."

"So I noticed."

"So Jacob, what do you do when you're not being the almighty guardian of La Push?" She shook her head in awe as she looked out the window. "God, everything is so _green_."

She could have sworn that he froze and that his face went several shades darker. "What?" He asked, voice strangled.

"What do you do when you're not being the guardian of La Push?" He shook his head. "Uh…everything is so green?" Ok, now she was really confused. What was it with these people?! "Uh… Jacob, are you alright?"

His hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard she was surprised it didn't crack in half. "Fine."

She snorted. "Yes, that's why you sound like someone just punched you in the gut. Seriously, what did I say?"

He appeared to be forcing himself to breath normally. "Nothing." He ground out finally, "You just… What you said, it reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

_Nice, Claire. Real nice. Clearly, that someone is someone he'd rather not remember and you're asking him who it is. Good going. Way to make friends. _

One hand left the steering wheel to tear through his hair. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. So what did you ask before?"

"Um," she bit her lip, trying to backtrack. "I think I asked what you did in your spare time."

"Fix things."

"How specific. What kind of things?"

"Cars. Motorcycles. Anything that needs fixing really."

"Ah, so you're the local handyman?"

"Pretty much," he shrugged, pulling into what she assumed was his driveway and turning off the car. "Ready to meet the gang?" He asked, apparently having made a full recovery from his odd reaction before.

She shrugged, unwilling to admit that she was nervous as she stepped out of the car. "Sure. Who can help but love this face anyway, right?" She pointed at her face and plastered a cheesy smile on. God, she needed help. Her sense of humor was suffering.

Jacob smiled at her anyway, out of pity she was sure, and then motioned for her to follow him into the house.

She wasn't sure just _what _she'd been expecting when she'd stepped into the house but it certainly hadn't been _this_.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what steroid everyone ate for breakfast. The room was large, by her standards, but filled to the brim with people, it _felt _tiny. It seemed like everywhere she looked there was another huge, hulking, freaking intimidating frame.

She gulped.

They all _seemed _friendly enough, not having taken notice of her just yet. They were laughing and joking, and once, when one of the boys (if you could even call them that) shifted she caught sight of a brown haired, relatively plain, normal sized girl. She clung to that.

If _that _girl could stay in the room with all this testosterone and not pee her pants, so could Claire.

She gulped again. Uh, right?

She recognized Leah Clearwater coming into the room from another hallway, Emily flanking her. Sam glanced up when they walked in, and Claire thought she caught a flash of pain in his eyes.

She frowned, making a mental note to ask about that later.

Jacob cleared his throat, and the room, with the exception of Sam who already knew who she was, snapped to attention.

Jacob was saying something about her having come from New York and a bunch of other stuff she wasn't really paying attention to when her eyes finally fell upon the figure she'd been looking for.

Quil.

She fought back a groan. He still looked terrified.

Claire wondered if it was effective to go up to someone and yell at them _not _to be afraid of you. It made no sense to her. She was half his size! What was she going to do? Pull out his hair?

She snorted, yeah, right, she probably couldn't even _reach _his hair.

That's when she noticed that practically the entire room had gone silent and heard her snort. She flushed, hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Uh, excuse me?"

Embry did a horrible job of trying to stifle his laugh.

She glared at him.

No one moved.

_Oh, God. Why is it so hard to get a normal reaction from these people? _She watched as their eyes flickered from her, to Quil, to her, and then back to Quil. She wanted to stamp her foot, but she didn't think that would make for a very good impression.

Instead, she turned to Jacob. "Is there something on my face?"

"No?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "That wasn't a trick question."

In the end, salvation came in the form of plain-brown-haired-girl. She swatted her large companion on the arm in silent reprimand, latched onto his hand, and proceeded to drag him along behind her as she made her way toward Claire.

_Impressive. _

"Kim." She introduced herself, sticking out her hand.

Claire did a little dance – on the inside of course. Finally a normal reaction! Hallelujah! "Claire Anderson, nice to meet you."

"I've heard a lot about you," Kim said, the blush on her cheeks cuing Claire into the fact that she wasn't a very outspoken person.

Claire smiled at her. "Good stuff, I hope."

"Of course." Kim agreed, jabbing her companion in the side. "Jared." She hissed.

Jared-boy tore his adoring gaze from Kim's face to Claire and, like an obedient puppy, he stuck out his hand and told her his name.

Claire grinned. She had a feeling she and Kim would get along just fine.

**A/N: No I haven't forgotten about this fic:) Life is just horrid and wants to keep me from it! Thanks for all the reviews/encouragement! **


	5. Chapter 4: Bonding

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Four: Bonding**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

"So, you're from New York?"

Claire nodded at Kim, swallowing the food in her mouth before speaking. "Yeah, upstate."

"So this must be really difficult for you," Kim shifted slightly, leaning back against Jared, who was engaged in conversation with Jacob. Jared turned slightly when he felt her move, grinning as he placed a kiss to the top of her head before turning back to Jacob. "All the changes, I mean. La Push is no New York City."

Claire smiled at the obvious show of affection. "Actually, it isn't that bad. I was getting really sick of the same thing day after day after day in New York."

"Really?" Kim arched an eyebrow, tilting her head to one side. "I'd think _this_ would be boring, not New York."

Claire shrugged, "New York City is overrated. At least, I think so. When I first started going there – on weekends with friends and what not – it was really exciting, but, it just kind of got old. I like the city and all, but it's nothing compared to this."

"So you think you'll stick around?"

"Sure," Claire grinned. "The company isn't so bad."

"Damn straight."

Claire blinked, tilting her head back to see who was speaking. Then she grinned slightly, shaking her head. "Embry."

After she'd been in the room for about an hour, people finally seemed to stop staring at her. She wasn't sure if it was because Sam was clearly getting annoyed that people were treating his niece like she was an alien for another planet, or because they genuinely were over their odd reactions, but she didn't really care. Embry, Jacob and Kim had certainly made her feel at home.

Kim had turned out to be a sweet girl. The complete opposite of Vicki, who was a loudmouth and obnoxious, but Claire was already starting to feel a certain kinship with the girl. Really, it was like she'd known these people her entire life.

If anyone had asked her to she wouldn't be able to explain it, but she felt incredibly at ease when she was with everyone. Especially Embry and Jacob, who she already adored.

"Claire," Embry took a seat down on the armrest, leaning on her shoulder and reaching for her plate. She slapped his hand away and he pouted, "Aw, come on. A guy's gotta eat."

"You've already eaten enough for five people, Embry, so back away from my food." She rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Kim.

The brown haired girl smiled at her, "I'm glad you like it here."

She was just opening her mouth to speak when her cell phone started ringing. Putting down her plate, she pulled it out of her pocket only to have Embry pluck it out of her hands.

"Matt?" He read, flipping it open. "Who the hell is Matt?"

"Crap," Claire reached past Embry's shoulder, trying to grab her phone back. "Give it to me!"

"Who is Matt?" He insisted, holding it out of her reach.

It was a completely unfair use of his height, so she stood up on the couch and made another lunge. "Embry!"

"Who is Matt?"

"What does it matter? Give me my phone!"

Ever so mature, Embry did not give her the phone back. Instead, he flipped it open and said, "Hello? Who's this?"

Claire buried her head in her hands. "Shit."

"Claire?" Kim frowned, touching her shoulder. "What's up?"

"What to do you mean who the hell is this?" Embry was saying, smirking as he leaned back against the couch. "You called me."

"I am so dead."

"Actually, Claire is pretty busy right now—"

Claire made another lunge for the phone, but Embry kept it out of her reach. "I hate you," she informed him. "Just remember that. I hate you. And I'm going to make sure Emily never feeds you again. I'm going to tell her to let you starve. And I'm going to go to your house – wherever it is – find the porn stash that I'm sure you have somewhere, and burn it. All of it."

Embry had gone several shades whiter. "What?"

She could just barely hear Matt over the phone. "Give me the damn phone, Embry. Or I swear—"

He flipped it shut and tossed it at her. "Here! Here take it!"

"You hung up!" She wailed, flipping the phone back open and quickly dialing Matt's number. As she'd expected, he didn't pick up, instead letting it go to his answering machine. Determined that she would never play the role of pleading girlfriend, she flipped the phone shut instead of leaving a message.

She'd wait until he called her back. Until then—

She turned a menacing glare in Embry's direction. "You are so dead."

"I can take you."

"Wanna bet?"

He blinked. "Er, no?"

"What's going on?" Jared asked, taking note of their little exchange. He spun around, and beside him Jacob shook his head, laughing.

"Did I hear you threaten his porn stash?"

Claire fought back a smile. "Maybe. He does have one doesn't he?"

"It's disgusting," Kim confided, her hand tracing absentminded circles on Jared's arm. "I've tried to get rid of it for years."

"Leave me alone!" Embry cried out dramatically, slumping against the back of the couch so that half his weight fell on Claire. "Why does everyone have to bother _me_? Someone should go bother Quil."

Claire groaned, trying to push him off of her. "In case you hadn't noticed, I already bother Quil. All I have to do is look at him and he's scared shitless. Watch." Her blue eyes scanned the room until she at last found Quil. He was, of course, as far away as possible, but he was looking at her. She arched an eyebrow at him, and he looked away quickly. "See?" She turned back to her companions.

Jared laughed. "He'll get over it eventually."

"So everyone keeps saying."

"So who was the guy?"

Giving up in her attempt to push Embry off of her, she instead put her head on his shoulder and shrugged a little. "My current boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend, I'm not really sure anymore."

"You have a boyfriend?" Jacob's eyes widened considerably.

"Uh-maybe? He's pretty pissed at me for leaving." Claire shrugged again. "Whatever."

"Were you guys really serious?" Kim asked, her brown eyes a little unsettled.

Claire look from one face to the next, frowning. Jared, Jacob, Embry and Kim all looked distressed. What was the deal with these people? "Not really. I'm not one for the serious relationships, and to be honest, it annoyed the crap out of me how he got all possessive when I told him that I was coming here. Anyways, what's the big deal?"

"Nothing," Jacob assured her quickly. "But, uh, I'm going to go talk to, uh, Quil."

Claire nodded, "Ok, you do that."

"Jared, Embry, you coming?" Jacob stopped about halfway across the room to glance back at the other two guys, both of whom had stayed seated.

Embry groaned. "But I was so comfortable—"

"Get your ass off the couch."

He groaned again, but got up and walked over to Jacob. Jared gave Kim a quick kiss before standing up and joining them.

Claire watched them go, her head dropping back against the couch. "So, Kim. What about you? How'd you end up here?"

"I've always lived here."

"And you and Jared?"

Kim smiled widely, a soft blush coming onto her cheeks as she dipped her head. Claire grinned.

"How long have you guys been together?"

"Long time," Kim replied happily, her eyes trained on her fiancée. "It was kind of funny, actually. I always had a crush on him, but he never seemed to notice me."

"Really? Because it's incredibly obvious that he's head over heels for you." Claire couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the relationship between Jared and Kim. It was so obvious when they were together how much they cared about each other.

There was no doubt in her mind that they would always be together.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't always. I'm just glad I stuck around, because if not… I would have missed out on a lot of great things."

Claire nodded in understanding, craning her neck as her eyes scanned the room. At last, she found the figure she'd been searching for.

Quil was standing in the far corner of the room with Jared, Embry and Jacob, and from the looks of it, they were arguing. He was waving his arms around, and his glare was deathly. Jacob reached for his arm when he turned away, and Quil shook it off roughly.

Claire blinked. "Is he alright?"

Kim followed her gaze. "Quil? He's just been having a rough few days."

"Because of me?"

Kim blinked. "Why would you think—"

"Oh, come on, Kim. I'm not stupid. The way he reacted when he saw me – he wasn't exactly thrilled that I'd come back. And when I walked into the room, everyone kept looking from me to him. What's going on?"

"I can't," Kim broke off her sentence abruptly, her lips pursing as she shook her head. She cast a hard glance in Quil's direction before turning to Claire. "Do you care about Quil?"

Claire started. "I hardly know Quil."

"That wasn't what I asked."

Huh. She wondered just how she should respond. She'd only known Quil for what, a day? But, all in all, she supposed she _did_ care about him. There was just something about him that drew her in. It was weird, and she had no idea what to make of the feeling. What she did know, was that she had never felt so complete as she did sitting here with all of these huge, looming, somewhat intimidating figures.

"I guess. I mean, I'd like to know him better, if that's what you mean. Be his friend."

Kim gave a short nod, "Well, then. Trust me. If you let things sit the way they are now, it's going to be a long time before Quil comes up to you. He's not shy, really, he just doesn't want to crowd you."

"That's what Jake said."

"Well Jake is right. I know it's hard to believe, but Quil actually does care a lot about you, and he's been through a lot. He's just a little wary right now." The brown haired girl inhaled, "It's like with me and Jared – if I had just given up on the idea of ever having him and just let myself wallow, I would have lost a lot. So if you want to have a relationship with Quil, well go, don't wallow."

Claire blinked in surprise. "I didn't say I was in love with him or anything—"

Kim laughed lightly. "I know. Just trust me. Go after him."

She shook her head doubtfully, but stood up anyways, making her way through the crowd toward Jacob. He sounded frustrated as he ran a hand through his hair, eyes flashing.

"He's such an idiot, damn it."

She was guessing they were talking about Quil.

Embry smirked a little. "Did you see the expression on his face when you said she had a boyfriend? Damn, he looked like he was about to punch a hole in the wall."

Jared laughed under his breath, "He'll come around. Take it from someone who knows, there is no way in hell he's going to be able to stay away from her."

She knew it wasn't exactly polite to be listening in on their conversation, but she couldn't help it. When it became apparent they weren't going to offer up any more information, she stepped closer. "Hey, guys."

Three ridiculously tall figures tensed up immediately. "Er, Claire?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Embry?"

"How long have you been standing there?" Jacob asked, eyes narrowing.

She shrugged. "I don't know – a minute, maybe two. Who were you guys talking about, Quil?"

Jared shook his head. "Uh, no, actually. Seth."

"Seth?" Her brows furrowed with thought, "Oh, yeah, Seth. God, I suck at names. So Seth has some girl issues?"

"Uh, yeah."

Claire's blue eyes narrowed. "Why do I get the feeling that you weren't talking about Seth and you're lying to me?"

"What do you need, Claire?" Jacob sighed, avoiding her question.

She inhaled. "I'm looking for Quil. Do you guys know where he is?"

"Quil?" Embry spit out the soda he'd been drinking, a smile spreading across his face. "You're looking for Quil?"

"Are you deaf?" She asked. All three boys shared grins, and she shifted uncomfortably. "You know what, never mind, I'm going to—"

"He went outside for a bit. Back door is that way." Jared pointed to her right, and Claire nodded, ducking her head.

"Thanks." She tried to ignore Embry's odd expression as she slipped past the trio and made her way through the crowd. She squinted a bit when she stepped outside, the sun hitting her face.

It was a little cold, so she wrapped her arms tighter around herself and rubbed her bare skin for warmth. Quil was standing just a few feet away from her, looking in the other direction with his hands shoved into his pockets. He was wearing a lightweight shirt, but he didn't look cold.

She took a tentative step closer, wondering just how to approach him. God damn it, she wasn't good at this. She always let the boys do the chasing, she never went after them.

She and Kim were going to have to have a little chat later.

"Quil?" Her voice came out in a barely audible squeak, and she winced. _Get a hold of yourself, Anderson._ She cleared her throat. "Quil?"

His entire body tensed, and she felt every muscle clench in response. She cringed, waiting for him to bolt again. It surprised her when he didn't move, instead answering with a rather strangled,

"Claire?"

"Uh, yeah." She took another step closer until she was just a foot away from him. She wished he would turn around and look at her, talking to his back was making her uncomfortable.

"What are you doing out here?"

God, she wished she knew, but she had no clue what she was doing outside. "Um, I saw you arguing with Jake, and I just wanted to see if you were ok."

Claire winced. _That _was the best she could do? What was it about Quil that unleashed an angry mob of butterflies inside of her? It was weird, the way she felt so at ease and at the same time so…hyperaware of everything.

She noticed that he shifted slightly, just barely turning his head so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye. "Does it matter?"

Ok, Mr. Broody. "Well, sure." She said.

"I'm fine."

Alright, so he wasn't very conversational. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "What is your problem exactly?"

Claire could see that she had caught him off guard, because he turned around to face her. His eyebrows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," she replied, letting her indignation take over. "What is your problem? What exactly did I do to you?"

Really, she'd been _two_ the last time she had seen him, what _could_ she have done?

"Nothing. What would make you think that—"

"Oh, I don't know, Quil, maybe it has something to do with the way you avoid me a like a freaking plague. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that you ran in the other direction when you didn't even know who I was. Or maybe it has something to do with the way how, when everyone else welcomed me today, you stayed as far away as possible. I don't know Quil, why would I ever think you had a problem with me?"

Something flashed in his eyes. "Just because I didn't mob you doesn't mean that I hate you."

"This isn't about mobbing me, Quil; this is about talking to me! I want to get to know you!"

"No, you don't."

"What the hell is your problem? You can't tell me what to do!" She was shouting now, and she half wondered if they could hear the argument inside. She hoped not.

"I can't deal with you being near me!"

Claire flinched at the full impact of his voice. Regaining her bearings took a moment, "Why not? What did I ever do to you?"

"It doesn't matter, Claire."

Even when they were arguing, there was something in the way he said her name that made her want to melt. "Yes, it does. It matters a lot."

She hoped he wouldn't ask why it mattered, because she didn't know.

"You should go back inside."

"You're telling me what to do again." She gritted out. If there was one thing she hated, it was guys telling her what to do. If only because of that, she was going to stay.

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Damn it, Claire. What do you want?"

"I want to get to know you," she replied. "I already told you that."

Quil shook his head. "You don't know what you're asking."

Another thing she hated: when people treated her like a child. "Actually, I do know what I'm asking. I'm asking for a friend, or at least an acquaintance that doesn't run in the other direction when he sees me." She stuck out her hand, "Look, maybe we just started off badly. Let's start over, alright? I'm Claire."

He stared at her offered hand, and she shifted uncomfortably.

_Come on, Quil. Give me your hand. Please_.

His eyes went from her hand to her face, and their eyes met.

He had gorgeous eyes. In fact, he was gorgeous altogether. Not that she would ever admit that out loud. "Please, Quil."

She thrust her hand out a little farther, and he glanced back down.

"I—"

'Quil!" Jacob's incredibly inopportune voice called out from the doorway. He looked at the two of them apologetically. "I'm really sorry if I'm interrupting or something, but we've got an emergency."

"What's up?" Quil asked, looking grateful for the interruption.

Claire stood there with her hand outstretched stupidly.

"You remember that…er, thing…we were tracking earlier? Sam caught its trail again."

"Which way?" Quil seemed to understand whatever Jacob was trying to convey, because instantly, he was on guard.

"East."

"Shit," Quil muttered, "Alright, I'm coming."

Jacob nodded, disappearing inside again. Quil turned to follow him, but Claire caught him by the arm.

"Wait, you never—"

He disentangled himself from her quickly, acting as though she'd stung him.

"Quil?"

He shook his head, eyes refusing to meet hers. "I can't. I'm sorry."

And with a sinking heart, Claire watched him go.

**A/N: I couldn't figure out a decent chapter title for this, so...oh, well. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! **


	6. Chapter 5: A Breaking Heart

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Five: A Breaking Heart**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, Quil, Claire, or Jacob. Unfortunately; because I'd take Quil or Jake any day. **

If one more person asked her if she was alright, she was going to scream.

Or she might gouge their eyes out. She wasn't sure just yet. Either way, it wasn't going to be pretty.

Claire was strewn across the loveseat, her head resting against the armrest and her legs hanging over the side as she fiddled with her phone. The menacing scowl on her face had been there since she'd walked inside after Quil had left. She had a feeling it would be there for sometime yet.

She flipped her phone open, idly going through her list of contacts. She could call Vicki, but then she would actually have to explain what happened, and she didn't feel like reliving the moment. She could call her mother, but Hilary would just tell her how stupid she'd been for ever going to La Push.

"Claire?"

Claire growled. "What is it?"

Emily blinked. "Um, do you want something to drink?"

Claire softened, feeling a little guilty for snapping at her aunt. It wasn't Emily's fault that Quil was an ass. "No, thanks, Aunt Emily. I'm good."

"Are you al—"

"Don't!" Claire scrambled into a sitting position, holding out one hand. "Don't finish that sentence, _please_."

"Um, sorry?" Emily was looking incredibly bewildered. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Relaxing now that she was sure that Emily would not ask 'the question' she shook her head, slumping back down. "No, thanks."

"Alright."

The get together had cleared out pretty quickly after the gang had left. Either that, or it had just _looked_ like a lot of people because of the ridiculously huge bodies. Kim was still there, but after a few failed attempts at making conversation with Claire, she'd given up and gone to keep Emily company. Other than her aunt and Kim, Claire had no idea who the other people left were. They were older, and they seemed to know her, but now they gave her plenty of space. The way she had snarled at them when they asked if she was alright had scared them all away.

She almost wanted to laugh. To think, once upon a time, she'd been _scared_ of all these people.

Her phone started ringing, and she flipped it open, eager for the distraction. She read the caller ID and bit her lip, wondering if she should pick up. At last, she hit the 'answer' button and put the phone to her ear.

"Hey stranger."

"Claire."

"Matt," she replied in what she hoped was an unconcerned tone. 

"Who the hell was that?"

She felt the irritation rise in her. It didn't take a lot to set her off, and she was still pissed off because of Quil. Matt had chosen the wrong time to get possessive. "What the hell does it matter?"

"Claire, this is ridiculous." Matt snapped, "You left without so much as a goodbye, and then you don't even call, and when I call, some random idiot picks up the phone and tells me you're busy—"

"How was I supposed to say goodbye when you were too busy brooding over the fact that I was leaving? Just because I'm dating you doesn't mean I have to do everything the way _you _want. I wanted to leave."

"What are you saying?" His tone was guarded.

"There's no hidden meaning to what I'm telling you, Matt. I needed a change of scenery."

"A change of scenery?" He scoffed, "You couldn't have gone to visit your dad for a week?"

"You don't own me, Matthew. Lay off the possessiveness, you knew when we started dating that I wasn't the kind of girl who would follow you around like a puppy." 

Her yelling had certainly attracted a crowd. Emily was standing in the doorway, sending her a confused and concerned look. Behind her, Kim was looking on with interest. And, of course, it seemed that everyone else had also come to watch the show.

Claire snarled, covering the phone and turning to her aunt. "Are you serious!"

"What?" Emily's forehead creased, and Claire motioned to the crowd behind her. She turned around. "Oh, sorry."

Once her aunt had ushered everyone out of the room, Kim leaving with an apologetic smile, Claire tuned back in to whatever Matt was saying.

"…and you still haven't told me who the hell that guy was that picked up the phone!"

"Embry Call," she replied flatly, "not that you should care."

"Not that I should care! What the hell has gotten into you Claire, of course I care that my damn girlfriend is cheating on me."

What little was left of her patience snapped in half and she leapt out of her seat, enraged. "Your _damn girlfriend_! Cheating on you? First of all, I may not be freaking head over heels and following you around like a freaking bimbo but that doesn't mean I'm going to be unfaithful. I would think you knew me better than that. Second of all, I am not your _damn _girlfriend because this _damn _relationship is over!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!" She screamed back, slamming her phone shut with a little too much force. Her battery fell out, and she scrambled for it, letting out a long enraged shriek. 

Emily appeared in the doorway, concern written all over her face. "Claire, honey, what's the matter?"

"I hate men!" She screamed, shoving her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. "They _suck_!"

"Claire, what happened? Are you alright?"

She let out another long, high pitched scream. The crowd that had once again gathered behind Emily took a frightened step back.

"NO! I am not 'alright.' I'm _pissed_."

"What happened?" If her mind had been functioning properly, she would have been impressed at the way Emily managed to stay calm and not run for cover.

Then again, if her mind had been working properly, she wouldn't be throwing a tantrum this way.

"What doesn't happen? My life is a freaking soap opera! My boyfriend thinks I'm cheating on him, some guy I met when I was two runs away from me every time I see him and made me feel like a damn idiot when I went to speak to him, my parents are divorced, I suffer from bouts of depression and I've been dreaming about a freaking _wolf_ since I can remember!" She inhaled deeply, catching her breath.

Emily had gone ashen. "What?" She breathed. "You've been dreaming about a what?"

Oh, shit. She hadn't meant to disclose all that information. She ran a hand through her long blond hair, shaking her head. "You know what, just forget it. Seriously, forget that I ever opened my mouth. And can you people at least _pretend _that you aren't listening!"

The crowd of oldies backed away, looking frightened.

"Where are you going?" 

Claire didn't answer her aunt, instead shoving her arms into her jacket and pulling her hair out from beneath the fabric. She pushed through the crowd and toward the back door. 

"Claire!"

"I need some air!" She called back.

"Claire, I don't think that's a good idea. Not with that...um, criminal, the gang is tracking out there. You could get hurt."

"I won't go far." Claire had a feeling her aunt would try to stop her, so she pushed open the door and bolted outside. The next thing she knew, she was standing in the middle of a tiny clearing in the woods. 

She slumped against a tree, forcing her breathing to come out even. 

God, she was pissed off.

Stupid Matt, and stupid Quil, and stupid male population. She hated them. All of them. They sucked. Except maybe Embry and Jake, they were tolerable. Oh, and Jared and Sam.

But the rest of the male species sucked. 

She'd been with Matt for almost an entire year, and he couldn't trust her? And what bothered her even more was that her break-up didn't bother her nearly as much as her encounter with Quil. 

What was it about him that got to her so much! 

She'd never been the one going after guys. Every relationship she'd had thus far had been completely superficial but he…

He was something else entirely. She genuinely _wanted_ to get to know him, to be friends with him, to be _something_ to him. She wouldn't say just what yet, because she didn't really know, but something. And then he…he…

"Ugh!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I hate men!"

Something eerily reminiscent of a wolf's howl broke the silence of the woods, and Claire froze.

Oh, _shit_.

Why hadn't she listened to Emily and stayed where she was?

There was a rustle of movement, and then across the clearing, someone stumbled out of the forest. Well, no, he didn't stumble – floated seemed like a more appropriate term.

She tensed. 

It was not one of the guys.

The figure was eerie. It was a boy, with brown hair, and ghost-white skin. She had thought her skin was pale, but his was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The boy stopped, tilting his head to the side as his eyes narrowed at her. From across the clearing, those eyes looked as though they were rimmed with red.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. People didn't have red eyes.

Claire pushed back farther against the tree, as though she might somehow disappear. There was something about the boy looked that put her on the edge. There was something about the way he looked at her, that made her feel vulnerable and exposed.

There was no doubt in her mind that _this_ was the criminal that the gang had been tracking.

Oh, why hadn't she listened to Emily!

If she survived this, she was going to have to stop being an idiot and listen to what people told her. 

The boy didn't say anything, but his lips curled up into a satisfied smile. It was almost like a hunter, finally finding its prey.

That's what Claire felt like: prey.

Her mind was screaming at her to move, or scream, to run away, but she was completely immobile. She was absolutely terrified.

The boy crouched oddly, and suddenly Claire knew.

She was dead.

There was absolutely no getting out of this.

Funny that all her mind could seem to work up was two words. Oh, _shit_.

A malicious smile, and then her mouth opened. She screamed.

The boy lunged.

She awaited the blow, eyes squeezed shut.

It never came.

An ear-splitting howl pierced the air, mixing in with her scream. It was nearly identical to the howl she'd heard earlier, but this one was frantic, almost tortured. There was a rustle of movement.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes.

Another howl.

Her heart stopped.

In front of her, the boy and a wolf were facing off. It was all so unreal to Claire, the way the boy was actually sticking around. He had to be deranged – it was the only explanation she could come up with.

But it wasn't the oddity in front of her that captured her attention anymore. It was the wolf. It was _her_ wolf. The one from her dreams.

She blinked once, twice, three times. She pinched her arm. 

He was still there, crouched toward the ground, teeth bared. He had placed himself protectively between her and the boy, as though he knew the danger. The wolf snarled. 

_How is this even possible? He's a wolf. An animal. He should be tearing my brains out right along with that boy's._

From all around her, howls broke out and immediately the boy backed up, his eyes scanning the horizon. Apparently, he had realized that he had no chance at winning this battle, and he tore off with amazing speed back into the woods.

She relaxed, instantly feeling safe, even as the dark hazel eyes of the wolf turned toward her.

He should have been frightening. A million more times frightening than the boy. He was huge, looming, threatening, and he could kill her in a second if he wanted to. And yet, she stood in awe, not fear.

Around her, a few other wolves came running into the clearing. She looked on in wonder, as most of them just kept going in the direction the boy had disappeared. One, a huge black one, stopped and looked at her.

She froze, but relaxed slowly. Something in his eyes reminded her of something… of someone she knew…

The wolf turned to her dream walker, and it seemed to nod its head as if some understanding had passed between them, before taking off with the others.

The chocolate brown wolf stayed firmly in front of her.

Feeling only slightly cautious, Claire took a step closer. The wolf turned its dark hazel eyes to her. "Oh, wow," she breathed. "This is…incredible."

The wolf tilted his head to one side, a small whine escaping his throat. Something inside her fell into place, and she realized that the wolf was curious. He didn't understand why she wasn't afraid.

She laughed softly as soon as the thought occurred to her, one hand reaching out slowly toward the wolf's fur. "Vicki's right," she murmured. "I must be losing it."

The wolf was still under her hand as she touched it at last, letting the incredibly soft fur run through her fingers. The wolf seemed to lean into her touch, half nuzzling her hand in answer.

She giggled. "God, I feel like I should be packing up and heading to a padded cell right now. You're _real._"

Hazel eyes looked at her quizzically and she shook her head in wonder.

"This is just like my dreams. It's like you can understand me… like I can read your expression." She took another step closer, her other hand reaching up and sliding through the fur on the other side of the wolf's face and falling toward his neck. "Yeah, I've dreamt about you. Like a million times, actually. I thought I was insane. I always had these dreams where I was running toward you, and you were running away. But you didn't run away, did you?" She mused, still disbelieving that this was actually happening. "You ran to me instead. I guess I should be thanking you. Is it completely insane that I'm not scared shitless right now?"

If she believed wolves could laugh, she would have said that's what he did just then. 

Aw, hell, who was she kidding? She believed that wolf was laughing at her just then, nudging her hand playfully.

"You're right," she giggled, burying her face into his fur. "I am completely insane. I mean if not of you, I should probably still be recovering from my recent near death experience."

Her thoughts flashed to the boy, and she shivered. Almost unconsciously, she moved closer to the hulking figure beside her.

The wolf snarled.

She shrugged, hand still moving across his neck. "I'm alright. I swear that next time Emily tells me to stay put, I'm going to, but I was pissed off." The wolf looked at her, and she shrugged. "I broke up with my boyfriend. Plus, there's this other guy who I think hates me."

She really was insane. Vicki was going to call the men in white coats when she told her this. She wasn't going to believe it for a second.

Somewhere close by, Claire heard a howl erupt. Something rustled off to the side, and a voice called out,

"Claire?"

The wolf seemed to take that as his cue to leave, because he moved out from under her touch and in the other direction.

"Wait!" She called out stupidly.

As if he could understand, the wolf turned its eyes to her. His eyes were sad and contemplative – the way they were in her dreams.

"Don't—" She never finished her plea, because the wolf took off running.

Her heart cracked a little bit. 

He was running away.

"Claire?"

"Over here!" She called out, faltering a little as she turned in the direction of the voice. It was Jacob, coming through the woods and walking toward her.

He looked worried. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Except that she wasn't. She could feel the depression seeping into her, and it was as though she was helpless to stop it.

She fought back the ball of tears that had suddenly wedged in her throat. Oh God, not _now_.

Of all times to get hit by one of those stupid 'moments' it had to be now! 

Images flashed in her mind.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look a little dazed."

_The wall, spring up between her and the figure in her dreams._

"I—"

_Quil, shaking his head. "I can't. I'm sorry."_

"Claire! What's the matter!" Jacob broke into a run as he dashed toward her. "Oh, _shit_."

_Matt, yelling at her. Accusing her of being unfaithful._

"I-I'm f-fine," she sniffled, wiping frantically at her tears. "R-r-really."

_Her father and her mother, screaming at each other; her and Abby sitting at the bottom of the stairs, watching._

"Bullshit, you're fine. You're crying. Claire, what's the matter?"

_The wolf, staring at her. The way it seemed to shake its head, running away from her._

"I'm not—I just—I _don't know_!" She wailed.

"Damn it. Claire, talk to me." Jacob was standing in front of her now, his eyes wild.

She sniffled. "It's just a 'moment,' it'll pass."

"What do you mean?" He frowned, his hand touching her shoulder. "Shit, Claire, you're freezing. I need to get you back to the house."

She shrugged helplessly. She must have looked like a complete disaster, mascara running down her face and smudged around her eyes. She sniffled again, "He was here, Jake."

Jacob put a brotherly arm around her shoulder, coaxing her toward the house. "Who was here?"

"The wolf."

She was so engrossed in her crying, that she didn't even notice him tense. 

"Don't be afraid of it, Claire. Those wolves wouldn't harm a soul."

Claire shook her head, running the back of her hand across her face. "I wasn't scared, Jacob. Not scared. I was surprised. I felt… I mean, I've seen that wolf before, I just—"

"What do you mean?" He asked, leading her up the stairs of the patio and toward the front door. "What do you mean you've seen it before?"

For some reason, she didn't even hesitate in answering. "I mean I've seen that wolf in my dreams, and in every single dream, it leaves me." A fresh flood of tears hit, and she wailed miserably. "Oh, God. N-now, y-you p-probably t-think I'm c-c-crazy."

"I don't think you're crazy, Claire. If you said you dreamt of that wolf, I believe you."

She looked up at him with wide eyes. "R-really?"

"Really. So this wolf always leaves you?"

"Yes," she murmured, following him into the house. "But this time, it was worse."

Everyone seemed to have vacated the house; only Emily and Kim were left sitting at the table. Claire was glad for that; she would hate for more people to see her like this. Both women stumbled to their feet when they saw her and Jacob.

"Claire! What happened?"

"What do you mean it was worse?" Jacob asked, his voice soft. 

She sniffled, her teary blue eyes trying to focus on Jacob's face. "It was worse, because this time, it was real."

And then the tears took over, and she said no more.

**A/N: It's a miracle! A timely update! I couldn't get this chapter out of my head, so I procrastinated homework and wrote it. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 6: The Armistice

The Half Life

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Six: The Armistice **

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight,**_** Quil or Claire. **

It only got worse.

The first day of her momentary depression, she apologized profusely between tears, hiccupping out a hardly adequate explanation of what was happening. Jacob, poor thing, had had no idea what to do as he paced around the room. Kim had looked on with wide eyes. Emily hadn't known what to make of things, so she'd just hugged her niece while murmuring that everything would work out.

Claire only cried harder.

The second day, she curled up in her bedroom, and cried some more. There was less talking involved, and when Emily came to check on her, she provided only one word answers.

That's when her aunt started to panic and called Hilary. Claire had stuffed her head into her pillow and pretended that she couldn't hear her mother screaming,

"I knew this was a mistake! I want her on the first flight home, damn it!"

Emily had promptly hung up the phone.

Jacob had arrived with Sam, and he'd explained what had happened in the woods while Claire pretended that she was asleep.

When he started talking about the dreams, Emily had made a grand show of gasping and pacing around the room.

On the third day, she finally stopped crying. Unfortunately, she also stopped eating, content instead to stay in her pajamas and stare into space. A frantic Emily had gone through her phone, looked through her 'most recent calls' and finally called Abby; Claire's sister had eventually explained the situation. Knowing that Claire would fall out of her depression sooner or later did nothing for Emily's nerves, and she continued to hover over her niece.

Embry visited that day as well, although he hadn't really known what to do. He'd just sort of stood awkwardly at the end of her bed, scratching the back of his neck and glancing over at Jacob.

On the fourth day, Kim stopped in for a visit. She talked to Claire's back for a good while, telling her how everyone was so worried, and she hoped that she would feel better soon. She then proceeded to launch into some mindless story about some bimbo she worked with.

Claire couldn't even bring herself to _pretend_ to care.

On the fifth day, Sam, Emily, Jacob, Embry and Kim all congregated in the kitchen downstairs to discuss the 'situation.' From what Claire was able to understand, they talked a lot about the dreams and about Quil.

She was sure they were going to call the insane asylum after Jake explained for the millionth time that she had seen the wolf that saved her in her dreams. Instead, Emily had just groaned and uttered something uncomplimentary about the male population.

Even in her stupor, Claire agreed wholeheartedly.

Jacob and Embry spent the entire sixth day in her room, trying to cheer her up. They brought her a variety of DVDs, the most of which were chick flicks and comedies, and sat down on the edge of her bed trading stupid stories.

Claire listened, and watched, but she didn't speak. In fact, she hadn't spoken in a few days. She was pretty sure that was why they were all so worried.

On the seventh day, Aunt Emily gathered up enough courage to call Hilary again. While her mother screamed herself hoarse, Emily had tidied up the room and left the phone in the corner. When it seemed she had finished at last, Emily had picked up the phone and explained the situation again. When Hilary just started screaming, Emily hung up. She sighed, eyes turning to her niece.

"I don't know how to help." She said, sounding distraught.

Claire had shrugged one shoulder slightly, and turned onto her side to sleep. She'd lost a considerable amount of weight, and a freaked-out Embry shoved a plate of greasy fast food and cake at her. She'd just looked at him with wide-eyes and shook her head.

He'd freaked out even more. "Eat, damn it! Do you know how hard it was for me _not_ to eat all of this on the way over here?"

Jacob had smacked the side of his head.

On the eighth day, Jacob came to visit alone. He sat down on the edge of her bed, and pinned her with a slightly intimidating stare.

"Look," he began, "I'm only telling you this because you're depressed."

She stared.

"A couple of years ago, I… well, I kind of fell in love. But she left. The girl I loved and—" He cut himself off, and rolled his eyes, "Aw, hell. What am I doing here?"

She shrugged.

"So this girl, she left, and I was pretty depressed. For a long time, actually, but you need to get over it, whatever 'it' is, just like I did, ok? Everything will work out."

He'd looked so adorable that Claire had moved across her bed and placed a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks." She'd whispered, crawling back under the covers and slumping down again.

Jacob blinked. "You speak!"

She shrugged. "Um… if you don't mind, I've seen everyone but…" Her voice sounded horrible, so she stopped and cleared her throat. "I, um, I haven't seen Quil."

"Quil?" Jacob looked away. "He's just been, uh, really, uh, busy."

Claire had shaken her head, looking away. "You're lying." She'd then proceeded to pull her covers up to cover her face and go back to not speaking.

Jacob had stormed out of the house yelling at Emily that he was going to drag Quil's ass to visit her even if it meant tying him up and throwing him in the back of his truck.

He didn't come back for the rest of the day.

Now, it was the end of the ninth day, and Claire was drifting off to sleep. She half-wondered if she was going to dream again. She hoped it would be a good dream, because she needed some cheering up.

Although, it was _her_ dream, so it probably wouldn't be.

Someone would probably leave her. Again.

The room was pitch black, and she shifted onto her side, and then onto her back, attempting in vain to find a comfortable position. She blinked in surprise when she met a pair of dark hazel eyes studying her.

Those dark hazel eyes widened considerably. "You're awake."

He sounded alarmed, and she struggled upright in her bed, pushing her hair out of her face. "I'm dreaming," she lolled, leaning back against the pillows. "Huh. I've never dreamt about you before."

"Wha…?" Her dream Quil looked down at her, confused.

She sighed happily. "You know, I should be really pissed at you."

"Me?"

"Mm, yeah. You left me. Like in all those other dreams. People always leave me." Her words were slurring a little, because she was tired. Funny, she'd never had a dream where she was _tired_.

"Claire?" Quil sunk down slowly onto the edge of her bed, "Can I ask you something?"

She shrugged.

"Will you tell me about those dreams?"

Her face fell a little. "Mostly there's just one. There's this wolf – the wolf that I saw in the woods – and I'm always running after him. I'm desperate, running through the woods trying to find him. I keep calling out, but every time he answers, he's farther away. I get more desperate, and I turn around and run back the way I came from. It's always just as I'm about to reach him, that I wake up. I can never find him. Never."

"How long have you had those dreams?"

She yawned, "Since I can remember."

"And the… depression?"

"My mom says those started when I was really little. Not too long after I came back from La Push, I think."

"Oh," he breathed.

"Why don't you like me?" If he'd been real, she would have been mortified that she had even asked the question, but this was a dream, so it didn't matter.

He blinked. "I don't not like you."

"You left me."

He smiled wryly. "Believe me, it's not because I don't care about you. I care about you, Claire. A lot."

She smiled, eyes sliding shut. "Really?" She forced her eyes back open; she didn't want this dream to end just yet.

"You really think this is a dream, huh?"

"I know this is a dream. Real Quil would never come and see me. He doesn't care about me. But it's okay. I'll live."

He laughed softly beneath his breath. "I was hoping you wouldn't be awake when I came, but I guess this works."

She didn't even try to process his words. She was too tired. Eyes sliding shut for a moment, she yawned again, motioning to the red item in his hand. "What's that?" Her words were slurring again.

"It's a rose."

"A rose?"

"Yeah, a rose."

"I like roses." Roses were, in fact, her favorite flower. Incredibly cliché, she knew, but she couldn't help but love them.

"I know. That's why I brought you one."

She smiled slightly, "That's nice."

"You should sleep, Claire."

"I _am _sleeping."

He grinned, shaking his head as he stood from his crouch beside her bed. "I'm glad you're alright."

"You care?"

Quil nodded. "I care."

He turned to leave, and Claire panicked. Her hand shot out, grabbing at him. "No! Stay!"

"But—"

"Stay! At least wait until I wake up, damn it!"

"Claire, I can't—"

"Why _not_?!"

"I'm not staying!"

She slumped back, defeated. "You're always leaving. Everyone always leaves me. I shouldn't be surprised."

There was a pause before he grunted, shaking his head. "You're really going to kill me one of these days, Claire."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She muttered.

She got her answer when her mattress sank, Quil's huge frame settling in beside her. "It means move over, because if I'm staying, I'm not crouching by your bed for five hours."

Claire smiled, moving closer to the radiating warmth. She curled up against his side, her head slipping comfortably onto his shoulder. "Quil?"

"Yeah?"

She could feel his warm breath against her cheek. "This is a really nice dream."

And then she was asleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she could barely remember the events of the night before. She was, of course, alone in her bed, feeling more than a little cold. However, she was also feeling better than she had in days.

She yawned, stretching her arms up in the air. Blinking, she pushed her hair out of her face. "God, I'm hungry."

Emily poked her head inside. "Claire? How're you doing?"

Claire smiled at her aunt. "I'm fine, Aunt Em. Just hungry."

Her aunt blinked. "You're speaking? And _smiling_?"

Claire laughed lightly. "It's been known to happen."

It was a little weird, however. She'd never come out of her 'moments' so abruptly before. A thought occurred to her, and she panicked a little.

"Um, Aunt Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"Did… did Quil come by last night?"

"Quil?" Her aunt's brow furrowed. "No. Why do you ask?"

Claire wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed. "No reason. Just curious is all."

Emily inched closer, sitting down on the edge of her bed. "You're better?"

Claire nodded. "In much need of a shower and nourishment, but the worst is over if that's what you mean. You called Abby, so I'm guessing she filled you in."

"A little. Do you want to talk about it?"

Claire shrugged a little. "I don't really know what to say. It's been happening since I can remember. The doctor said I was perfectly healthy, and that he couldn't see any reason for the bouts of… I really don't want you to think I'm depressed. I'm not, really. It's just… mood swings."

Emily smiled a little, "I don't think you're depressed. Hilary said that this started up after you left La Push the first time."

"I guess. I was two, so I couldn't really say for sure."

"And the dreams?"

Everyone here seemed so fascinated by her dreams. "I'm not crazy, it's just… a dream."

"About a wolf?"

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" Claire dropped her head back onto her pillow.

"No, I don't think you're crazy." Emily hugged her, "I'm glad you're feeling better. I'll go get some food for you."

"Thanks, Aunt Em."

Emily nodded, kissing her forehead and walking toward the door. She pulled it open and stepped into the corridor and Claire heard her give a surprised, "Oh!"

"Emily?" She called, leaning over and trying to see into the hallway.

There was a murmur of voices.

"Emily, who is it?"

Probably Jacob, or maybe Embry. Both guys had been amazing, visiting her practically everyday. She smiled a little, thinking that they were like the brothers she had never had.

"Uh, you've got a visitor. I'll be back in a little bit," her aunt called back. Claire heard her shuffle down the hallway and turned expectantly to the doorway.

"Jake? Embry?"

"Uh, no actually. It's me."

Her heart froze. "Quil?"

He shifted nervously into the room. "Uh, yeah. Hi."

Quil looked supremely uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other in the doorway. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and he was staring at the floor.

Definitely not the Quil she'd dreamt of the night before.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, voice cool. There was no way she was going to show him just how much he'd hurt her.

His head snapped up, "You're angry."

He sounded a little awed.

She tilted her head, incredulous. "A little, yeah. Was I supposed to jump for joy and hug you when you've been avoiding me for the past week and made it abundantly clear how painful it was to be around me?"

He shook his head, "No, I just… I thought you might…"

"Might…?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Unfortunately, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and winced. She hadn't run a brush through her hair in a while, and it showed. The rumpled pajamas didn't help her appearance much either.

She tried to run a hand through her hair casually.

"Never mind," Quil shook his head. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

She scowled at him, "Now you want to talk?"

Claire thought she saw the corner of his mouth turn up the slightest bit. "Please?"

She glared for a moment. "I should tell you no, especially since you were such a jerk to me."

"But you won't, will you?"

Her scowl deepened, "Why not?"

Yes, he was definitely smirking. "Well, then you'd be sinking to my level."

Claire gave an indignant little huff, turning away from him. "Fine. Whatever. Come in."

"Thanks," he dipped his head, stepping into the room.

"What do you want?"

Quil stopped at the side of her bed, leaning against her dresser. He loomed over her, and she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. "I wanted to apologize."

She scanned his expression for any sign of insincerity, but his dark hazel eyes were soft. "Really? For which one of the jerky things you did?"

The right corner of his mouth turned up a little more. "All of them."

Claire nodded. "Good answer."

He shook his head, amused.

"Why did you act that way? What did I do to you?"

The half smile left his face. "You didn't do anything to me, Claire. It was me."

"Whatever," she waved her hand in dismissal, "I don't really care who it was, why did you act that way?"

"I was just worried about… something."

"Worried about what?" She exclaimed, exasperated.

"My life is pretty complicated, Claire. I didn't want to suck you into anything."

Her neck was starting to ache from staring up at him, so she scooted toward the middle of her bed and motioned for him to sit down. Quil hesitated, and she rolled her eyes. "It's painful staring up at you like this. Sit down."

At last, he settled onto her bed, his huge figure taking up a remarkable amount of space. "You're pretty bossy."

Claire shrugged. "Maybe. I don't like people telling me what to do. That includes you. Whether or not I want to risk getting involved in your complicated life is my choice, don't you think?"

"Maybe," he agreed, "but don't you think it's my choice whether or not I want to let you in?"

She wasn't entirely sure how to argue with that. "Do you… not _want_ me in your life?"

"I do," he said softly. "That's just the problem."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. "So now what?"

Quil's eyes locked with hers, and he shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's up to you. We can be friends, if you want."

"Friends," she repeated. She wasn't sure she wanted to be just friends with him, but for now, she would settle for that. It was probably a good idea, since she knew next to nothing about him. "Alright. As long as you agree not to push me away like that again. It's kind of painful, you know."

His eyes softened considerably, and she nearly melted. "It was kind of painful for me too."

"Good. Now stop being a masochist before I beat you over the head with something."

He gave an impish grin, shaking his head in amusement. "You really are bossy."

She laughed, "And you're an idiot, what's new?"

"I'm an idiot?"

Claire nodded. "Yes. Only explanation for your behavior this last week. You're an idiot."

"Thanks," Quil told her sarcastically, shifting on her bed. "So how've you been feeling?"

"Fine," she replied. "These…moments… they come and go."

"That's what Emily said."

"Yeah, well, she was right. I'm just extremely embarrassed that it had to hit so soon after I got here. People must think I'm crazy. I'm claiming that a wolf saved from this freakish looking psycho, I blurted out that I've been having dreams about a wolf since I was little, and then this… Yeah, I can practically see my list of friends shrinking."

Quil laughed, "Naw. People don't think you're crazy. Those wolfs are a pretty common sight around La Push."

Claire perked up, "Really? So I might see him again?"

He ducked his head, "I'd say there's a good chance. I would have expected you to be scared."

"Scared?" She shook her head empathetically, "No way. Excited and disbelieving, yes. Secure, yes. Scared, definitely not."

He grinned. "Good."

She was about to say something when the door burst open and Jacob and Embry burst inside. She grinned at the sight of them.

"Hey, guys."

Embry and Jacob stared at Quil, their mouths hanging open.

"Uh, guys?"

"_Quil_?" Embry asked, as though he might be hallucinating.

Quil quickly got off her bed, coming to his feet. Claire was surprised by how much she missed the feel of him. Even though there'd been a good few inches between them, she'd enjoyed the feel of his weight and the warmth that seemed to radiate from him.

"Hi," Quil said, a little awkwardly by Claire's standards.

Jacob finally reacted, shaking his head. "It's about time, man."

Quil shrugged, turning back to Claire. "I should get going."

She nodded, trying not to feel disappointed. She almost wished that Jacob and Embry hadn't shown up. "I'll see you around?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll be around."

She smiled, relaxing. "Good."

Once he was gone, Jacob and Embry took turns pummeling her with questions until she finally threw up her hands.

"Enough! God, you two are like girls asking me for all the details."

Embry scowled at her. "I'm not a girl."

"No, you're worse," Claire tossed back. Her eyes settled on the box he'd been holding since he'd walked in. "What is that?"

Jacob laughed, running a hand through his hair. "It's his foolproof way of cheering you up."

Claire tilted her head, curious. "Really?"

"Yeah, but since you're fine…"

Claire sniffled, sinking back into her covers. "No, I'm not. I could relapse at any time."

Embry scowled at her, but gave her the box anyways. Eagerly, she pulled off the cover. Then she frowned.

"What the…? Embry, this is not cheering me up. Actually, I feel like I'm about to throw up everywhere." Claire winced, throwing the cover back on so that the _Playboy _magazine was safely hidden from view.

Jacob laughed again, "He was going to let you burn them."

A giddy smile erupted on her face. "Really?"

"Really," Embry replied, a little glumly.

She leaned over, kissing his cheek. "Aw, thanks Embry. Let's go, hopefully Aunt Em has the fireplace going downstairs."

She threw back the covers and slipped off the bed. She was halfway to the doorway when Jacob asked,

"Who brought you the rose?"

She faltered immediately, turning around. "What rose?"

Jacob arched an eyebrow, motioning to her dresser. Half afraid at what she would see, she turned in the direction he pointed.

Lying on her dresser was a single long stemmed red rose, its tips a pure white.

"_A rose?"_

"_Yeah, a rose."_

"_I like roses."_

The breath left her in a rush. "What…?"

**A/N: Just a little note to say that I hope you all tell me what you think :) I love hearing from you. I hope you guys don't think the situation was rushed or anything, but I felt that Quil wouldn't be able to hold out when he knew Claire was in pain. Besides, I need them to start talking **_**sometime.**_


	8. Chapter 7: Visitors

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter ****Seven****: Visitors**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own **_**Twilight,**_** Quil, or Claire. I also don't own the song "Ultraviolet" by Joanna Pacitti, Kermit the Frog, Miss Piggy, Fozzie, The Muppet Babies, Sailor Moon, Starbucks, or My Little Pony.**

"Good morning, Auntie Em!" Claire called out in a sing-song voice, practically dancing down the hall. In one hand, she held her two-year-old iPod, and in the other a bottle of water. She was clad in a pair of tiny shorts and much-too-large pullover, her hair thrown up in a disastrously messy bun.

She rocked from side to side, dancing to the music pouring from the headphones and into her ears.

She had plans for today. Plans that included seeing Quil.

Claire had everything planned. She's have to enlist Jacob's help, but somehow, she didn't think he'd put up much of a fight. Besides, she couldn't just _wait_ for Quil to come around and see her. Judging from prior experience, she would meet with nothing more than disappointment. Anyways, she'd already waited _two days_. That was long enough, wasn't it?

She opened her mouth and belted out the lyrics of the song she was listening to, prancing down the hall. "That fire you ignited, good bad and undecided, burned when I stand beside it, your light is ultraviolet. Visions so insane, travel unraveling through my brain. Cold when I am denied it, your light is ultraviolet."

She was still crooning along to the music in her slightly off-tune voice as she threw her arms up and twirled into the kitchen in a move reminiscent of her ballerina days. She didn't count on running smack into a rather large, rather hard, rather muscular, male chest.

"Someone's in a good mood this morning," an amused voice rang out from above her.

Shocked into silence, she stared at the flat chest in front of her, eyes slowly traveling up the muscled chest, to the neck attached to the chest, to the face attached to the neck, to the eyes attached to the face.

Claire gulped.

"You are _not_ Aunt Emily."

Quil's lips turned up ever-so-slightly. "No. I'm not."

"Huh."

"Intelligent response. What were you singing?"

"Singing? I wasn't singing."

Quil shook his head, dropping his hands from where they had fallen on her waist. "Right. Of course you weren't."

"I wasn't," she responded, petulantly. "Now what are you doing in my kitchen?"

"_Your _kitchen?"

"My kitchen."

"Last time I checked, this wasn't your house."

"Sure it is, I'm Emily's niece, so it's mine by association. Why are you here again?"

"Sam said he needed help with something."

"You should go find him then."

"Yeah, I should."

Silence.

"And yet, you're not moving." Claire was having trouble keeping the elated smile from her face as she watched him shrug. "Did you eat breakfast?"

"No."

"You want a piece of blueberry pie? Freshly made, courtesy of Emily Uley." Claire brushed past him casually, or at least, in a way she hoped was casual, and made her way for the counter, where the blueberry pie sat waiting and wanting to be eaten.

Quil grinned at her. "When have I ever turned down Emily's pie?"

"I take it that's a yes, then?"

He nodded, "Hell yeah."

"Huh. Should I be offended? You seem happier to see the pie than you are to see me."

Quil's grin widened. "Don't take it personally, but I'd take a date with Emily's pie over anyone."

Claire faked a disappointed sigh. "That's really too bad. Embry will just be _so _disappointed."

She had the pleasure of seeing Quil's mouth drop open a little in disbelief before he let out a small laugh, shaking his head in amusement. "So tell me, honestly, why are you so happy this morning?"

"Honestly? I don't really know, it just feels like everything in my life is falling into place." She cut two large pieces of pie, transferring them with some difficulty to two separate plates as Quil fished a pair of forks out of the silverware drawer.

He followed her to the table, hazel eyes thoughtful. "What do you mean?"

"That's the thing," she laughed, "I don't really know. Maybe it's this place, maybe it's all of you, but something… I just feel so content."

"Don't you miss your family? Your friends?" He paused, his expression turning a bit pained. "Your boyfriend?"

She finally pulled her earphones out and dropped her iPod on the other side of the table, slipping into the seat beside Quil. "My friends and I email back and forth, and Vicki calls me everyday. Sure I miss gossiping before homeroom or going to Starbucks at seven in the morning for a cup of delicious coffee with Vicki, but that got so… superficial after awhile. I guess I just wasn't that happy. As for the boyfriend, we broke up. He's an ass."

A small smile flittered across Quil's handsome face. "Did you?"

"Mm. He thought I was cheating on him." She paused, rolling her eyes. "With Embry, of all people. That's practically incest."

"He's probably just scared to lose a great girl."

Claire was absolutely furious at the blush she felt heat up her cheeks. Damn it! She would NOT act like a teenager. He was twenty. No blushing. Stop blushing. Argh!

She shoved another piece of pie into her mouth as Quil watched her, smirking.

Finally she came up with. "So you think I should pass it all of as paranoia? I think not. He should trust me. If I didn't want to be with him, I'd tell him so. Whatever, can we move on?"

"Sure. We've established that you don't miss your friends _too_ much, and that you absolutely don't miss your boyfriend," at her murderous expression, he amended his statement, "_ex-boyfriend,_ but what about your family?"

She gave a humorless laugh. "Define family."

His brows furrowed together so that a small crinkle appeared between them. "What do you mean?"

She opened her mouth to respond when she realized just how much she was revealing to him. Claire would never have told Matt, or any of her other boyfriends this, and yet here she was, revealing her life story to a boy she'd only _just_ started to talk to.

Riiight. Bad idea. Way to keep his interest, Claire. Just blabber on about your problems.

"Ignore me."

"Huh?"

"Ignore me. I'm just being a baby. What about you? What do you do with yourself? Or are you a professional hobo?"

He seemed caught of guard by the question, managing a squeaked, "Me?" around a mouthful of blueberries.

She laughed. "Yes, you. And by the way, you've got a huge smudge of blueberry on your cheek."

He swallowed the pie and flashed a sheepish smile, reaching by her for a napkin. "S'cuse me."

She laughed again. "Whatever."

"So you want to know about me, huh?"

"I do."

"Like what?"

"Oh you know, I want to know if you've ever killed someone, if you're allergic to cats, and, oh, who is your favorite Muppet character?"

He flashed a rakish smile that made her heart start pounding at an alarming rate. His hazel eyes were filled with mischief, "Yes to the first two. And Miss Piggy, definitely. Kermit _so_ didn't deserve her."

The answer to her third question caught her so off guard, she didn't even pay attention to his response to the first, breaking out into laughter. "Miss Piggy was possibly the biggest brat and most obnoxious of all of them!"

Quil's face turned horrified. "She's just misunderstood!"

She only laughed harder, leaning forward and dropping her head to his shoulder. "Oh my god, Quil."

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Yes."

She felt the laughter rumble somewhere within his chest. "I should be offended." He paused, "Besides, _you _asked."

"You're right," she acknowledged, smiling wider. "Well I'll confess to adoring the Muppet Babies. '_Muppet babies, where all your dreams come true!'_" She called out in a sing-song voice.

This time, Quil was the one laughing. "You remember the damn _theme song_?!"

"The Muppet Babies and Sailor Moon were my favorites TV shows of all time. Oh, and My Little Pony!"

They both dissolved into laughter. "You're pathetic."

"I am not! Fozzie totally contributed to the development of my sense of humor."

"Which would explain why you don't have one."

"Oh, waka, waka, waka!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Anyways, don't get me started. Stop stalling and answer my original question, damn it! What do you do with your life?"

"I build houses."

That sent her for a loop. "You do what now?"

"I build houses. I worked construction for a while, then ended up studying architecture in college."

She gaped at him. "And you're _twenty_? How does that work."

He looked sideswiped. "Um, it's a little complicated."

"A little complicated?"

"A lot complicated. Anyways, that's what I do. The end. It's really not that exciting, and it's not something I get to do as often as I'd like. Obligations around La Push, you know."

"So you've lived in La Push your entire life?"

"Pretty much."

"And you like it?"

He seemed to have to contemplate her question for a second. "I'd give an arm and a leg for this place, for these people… but it isn't always where I want to be."

_That_ made her frown. "How come?"

"Everything has its good and its bad, right?"

_Could he be any more obscure? Damn his stupid mysteriousness. I hate it. _"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Jerk." She smiled at him anyway, turning her attention back to the pie. "So I have a confession to make."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I still haven't called my mother. I've been procrastinating it at all costs."

"You and your mother don't get along?"

"You might say that," she acknowledged. "My family's pretty um… special. It's one of the reasons I like it here so much. There's Kim, and Jake, and Embry, and Jared. And Emily and Sam, of course." She paused before adding softly, "And you."

Claire honestly believed Quil was going to bolt out of the room crying and screaming like he had both other times she'd said anything remotely similar to 'you mean something – I don't know what yet – to me,' but he surprised her by merely grinning.

"Everyone here cares about you a lot. People like having you around."

"And that includes you now?"

"Are you ever going to let me live that down?" Quil asked, shaking his head.

"Not likely. It's really good blackmail if I ever need a favor."

He shook his head. "Well, yes, that includes me now. You're a bit of a pain in the ass, but you keep things amusing. After all, who else is going to have crazy dreams about wolves or fall into insane depression out of nowhere?"

She swatted him, but it didn't seem to affect him at all.

Instead, he merely slid his hazel eyes back toward her. "So are we done playing twenty questions now?"

"I'll get back to you about that. I might come up with another question."

"Well I've got one." He said suddenly, an impish grin appearing on his face.

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

It took a full three minutes for her to react, she was sure. Had he really just asked her that question? He hadn't, had he? Quil looked at her expectantly. Oh wait, he had. "Um, nothing?"

"Good answer. Jake, Embry, and I are having a little cookout at Jake's place. You should come."

"I should?"

He looked at her as though she were dumb. All things considered, she might be. "No, that ugly ass doll in the corner. Yes, you."

Automatic reaction, she turned and looked toward the corner of the room. Immediately, her nose scrunched up. "Is Emily aware that her doll is dressed in puke green?"

"It's not puke green!"

Quil stifled a laugh as Emily's indignant voice rang out from the doorway. Despite the scowl on her face, Claire could read the amusement in her aunt's eyes.

Claire turned back to the doll. "I'm sorry, Auntie Em, but it is. And the _hair_, what did you do to her?! It's purple!"

"Claire Elizabeth Anderson, if you don't stop making fun of my first doll, I might just make you starve."

"Liar. You'd feel too guilty."

"That's beside the point. Anyways, it isn't my fault her hair is purple; your mother thought it might be funny to color it. Of course, she didn't think to experiment on _her _doll."

Claire's eyes bulged. "My mother?!"

Emily nodded.

"As in Hilary Anderson, queen of all things perfect and sad case of obsessive compulsive disorder? Are we talking about the same women who methodically arranged my _sock_ drawer every week?"

Emily and Quil both laughed. "Yes," her aunt acknowledged, "the very same."

"Very weird."

"Speaking of weird," Emily began, what Claire thought was an evil glint in her eyes. "Since when do you two have civil conversations and visit each other."

It was at that precise moment that her dear old Uncle Sam walked into the room. Sam wasn't one for random and incoherent outbursts, but the sight of Quil and Claire, sitting in rather close proximity at his kitchen table, seemed to shock him enough. "Quil? Claire? Together?"

Ah, yes. Her uncle was so eloquent.

P.S. Anytime now floor, feel free to open up and swallow her!

Unfortunately, even after Claire closed her eyes and waited for her chair to fall into the unknown hole in the ground, she stayed firmly seated in the kitchen. At last she opened her eyes, groaning loudly and dropping her forehead into the palm of her hand. "Wow, guys. Way to be subtle."

"We try," Emily said, laughing. "Or at least, I do."

"Yeah, ok. You seem to forget, Aunt Em, that we are related. I know you better than you think, you conniving meanie!"

Quil turned to look at her, eyes incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"What?"

"_Meanie_? That was really the best you could do?"

"She's my aunt! I'm not going to call her a bitch!"

"So you called her a meanie?"

"Shut up!"

"Why should I? Are you going to call me a meanie if I don't?"

"No, I'll just shove this lovely piece of pie in your face and make sure your shirt gets impossible-to-clean stains all over it."

Quil laughed, but stayed silent for the most part.

Sam and Emily looked on in amusement. Emily turning to her husband and commenting in what Claire new was a deliberately-loud-enough-that-everyone-could-hear-it voice, "They are quite the pair, aren't they?"

Claire squealed indignantly, banging her head against the side of the table and trying to avoid the mess of blueberries left on her plate.

Quil laughed again.

"Stop laughing." She mumbled into her hands.

He laughed harder.

"Stop it!" Claire picked up the plate, "I swear, I'll—"

"Alright, alright!" Quil threw up his hands in defeat. "I surrender. I should get going anyways. So are we on for tomorrow?"

"Sure," Claire agreed in what she hoped was a casual tone. It certainly didn't help her situation that her aunt and her uncle were hovering near by, waiting like starved carnivorous animals to pounce on her as soon as he left. "What time should I get there by?"

He cocked his head to one side, "Um… Probably around four, is that ok? I can give you a ride if you want."

She blinked, surprised. "Uh, sure."

He flashed her a smile, a real smile, not one of his normal smile/smirk/grin things, and her heart melted. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow then." And with only a nod to Sam he was gone.

It was only later, as she was lying in bed mulling over their talk in her mind that she realized it. He had told her he'd come to see Sam – so just why had he left as soon as her uncle arrived?

In the dark, Claire smiled.

**A/N: Since I don't know what kind of music Claire would really be listening to x amount of years from now, she's listening to now a days generic music. The same goes to TV shows and the like. I'll admit that **_**I **_**watched The Muppet Babies with my brother and sister when I was little. Oh the stories I could tell… heh. **

**Special thanks to Beinginfinite, who introduced me to the song "Ultraviolet" and realized how ridiculously similar it is to the situation in THL. We should be seeing it again.**

**Anyways, sorry for the long delay but I'm in the process of graduating so life is a little hectic. Hopefully, more soon. :) I'm heading to Boston, so I might not get all of my review responses out immediately. **

**Hope you all enjoyed!**


	9. Chapter 8: At the Beginning

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Eight: At the Beginning**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

Desperate times called for desperate measures and Claire was _desperate._ She was a girl, yes. And she liked cute clothes, yes. But did she spend hours planning, arranging and filling her closet?

Absolutely not!

Which was why she was stuck, an hour before Quil came to pick her up, throwing clothes wildly around her room without the _slightest_ idea what to wear. She didn't want to _look _like she'd spent a lot of time planning her outfit, but she _did _want to look good enough to make him do a double take.

Which was precisely the reason she called in reinforcements.

Also known as Abby Amelia Anderson. Triple AAA. Her sister.

Who, had she actually been in the same room, Claire was relatively certain she would have killed by now. But hey, that was the nature of their relationship. Life would be way too boring otherwise.

"I can't see you, idiot! Stay where the webcam can see you!"

"I'm grabbing my shirt, loser! Calm the crap down!"

"Hey, I'm doing _you_ the favor here, I'll just hang up!"

"With your ridiculous obsession for fashion? Yeah right, you'd die before you let me go on a date looking anything less than perfect."

"Well, don't flatter yourself. It's not my fault you inspire pity so easily. I mean, honestly, I don't know _where_ you got your fashion sense."

"Shut up, Abigail!"

"Don't call me Abigail!"

"Don't make fun of me!"

"It's not my fault you make it so damn easy!"

"Gah!" Claire threw her hands up, the blue shirt she'd been holding flying across the room at the motion. "Just _shut up_! This is ridiculous! Why the hell are we even arguing?"

Abby's face blinked back at her from her laptop. Her sister shrugged slightly, leaning back in her chair as the tension left her shoulders. Just when Claire thought she was going to let it go, she mumbled, "You started it."

Claire groaned, "Aren't you supposed to be the mature one?"

To her surprise, Abby laughed. "Um, no. If I wanted to be mature, I would've spent the year living with you and mom. Dad makes damn sure I stay his little princess."

Despite herself, she felt a small flash of pain. _His little princess._ That's what _she _was supposed to be. _She _was the youngest, after all. Not Abby. And yet, she only saw her father a few times a year.

She forced herself to appear nonchalant, but her sister caught on to the change in her mood in a flash.

"Hey, kid, you alright?"

"Fine," Claire plastered a smile on her face as she picked up another shirt. "What do you think of this one?"

"Too fancy for a cookout. Seriously, though. Emily called me and told me you'd fallen into another depression, you sure you're alright now?"

To Claire's surprise, she genuinely smiled, thinking immediately on her dream about Quil. And about the damn rose that was currently sitting, and withering, much to her disappointment, on top of her dresser. "Yeah, I'm fine now." She tossed a shirt onto her bed and picked up another one.

"No, wait!"

Claire turned a confused look to her laptop. "What?"

"What was that you threw away just now?"

"The shirt?"

"Yes, idiot, the shirt. Lemme see it."

"I'm not wearing that."

"I didn't ask you if you were wearing it or not, I told you to let me see it."

"I don't care what you tell me, Abby," she warned, "I'm not wearing that. It's way to flimsy to be wearing in this weather."

"Flimsy? Hm, is that a bad thing?" Abby flashed a mischievous smile, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.

"Abby," Claire warned, "I'm not wearing it. Anyways, how is Brad these days?"

"Psh," Abby waved one dismissive hand. "I ended it."

Claire groaned, "Again? Abby, this is like, the fifth guy in the past six months that you've broken up with."

"So?"

"Do you not see something wrong with that?"

"I don't believe in long term relationships," Abby informed her while inspecting her perfectly manicured nails. "You know this. So Matty thought you were cheating, huh?"

Claire growled. "Yes, he—"

"Try the pink one on." Her sister ordered.

"Fine, but stop trying to change the subject."

"I'm not trying to change the subject."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too." Claire stuck her tongue out before pulling the sweater over her head. She turned toward the laptop for inspection while glancing at her reflection in the mirror. She frowned. "Who am I kidding, Abby? This is hopeless. I look… I look…"

"Like a fluffy pink marshmallow? Yeah, kind of. Um… try the blue one. You always look cute in blue."

Claire flung the offending pink sweater across the room and reached for the blue shirt. She turned to the mirror and grinned, "Abby, you're a freaking genius." The light blue shirt seemed to make her eyes gleam. It was simple, but it was cute. The light blue fabric was tight fitting around her stomach, but it fell gracefully off her shoulders.

"Obviously. What are you going to wear with that? A skirt?"

Claire laughed. "A skirt? To a cookout? No, thank you. I'll wear a pair of jeans."

"Wear the ones I got you!" Abby practically shrieked. "And do your eye make up the way I showed you too! I know you hate sitting in front of the mirror for more than fifteen minutes, but—"

"Alright, alright! I will, now calm down."

"So who is this guy you're going out with anyway?" Abby inquired, calmly returning to her previous inspection of her fingernails. "Argh, I need a freaking manicure."

Claire rolled her eyes. "You do realize how superficial you sound to everyone who doesn't know you as well as I do, don't you?"

"Whatever. Answer the damn question."

"Quil Ateara. He's twenty years old, and he works with Sam."

Abby frowned. "Quil? Why does that name sound so familiar? Wait a second – you said he's _my _age?"

"Yeah, why?"

Her sister knocked her head against the top of her desk. "Okkk, clearly I'm losing it here."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Nothing, it's just… if you hadn't told me he was my age, I would have thought you were talking about this other guy I sorta, kinda remember from when we visited eons ago. I could have sworn his name was Quil too."

"Weird," Claire frowned, "that isn't exactly a common name."

"No, it's not. But the Quil I'm thinking about was older, probably around twenty, actually, which means he'd been pretty damn old these days. I don't remember much of him, just flashes here and there. I was pretty antisocial back then, all I did during that trip was hide behind Emily."

Claire laughed, "Hard to picture considering now I can't get you to shut up." She paused, opening her tube of mascara.

"Don't stab your eyeball," Abby teased.

"Shut up, or I'll stab yours."

"You can't, I'm in New York, you're not, remember?"

"The next time I see you then." She put down the mascara and grinned at her reflection before turning around to face the camera and her sister. "So, what's the verdict?"

Abby crossed her arms and arched one elegant black eyebrow. "Turn around for me."

Claire rolled her eyes, but did as her sister said.

Abby smiled. "You look good. What time is he supposed to be there?"

"In like—"

The doorbell rang.

"Shit!! Do you think that's him? Oh, shit, shit, _shit_. Abby, what if that's him?!"

"I swear I'm not related to you." Abby said, looking at her as though she were some kind of moronic idiot.

Claire wasn't sure if it was her sister's ultimate intention to snap her out of her minor freak-out session by being obnoxious, but if it was, then it worked. Immediately, she calmly responded, "Says the girl who peed her pants until she was six."

"Shut up! I did not! Now don't stand there like an idiot, go!!"

"Oh, right. Thanks, Abs."

"Don't call me that." Claire grabbed her jacket and bolted out of the room, just faintly making out her sister's call of, "And you're welcome!"

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in._

God was punishing her for all those times she'd made fun of the girls in her class who had swooned at the mere thought of a date with the guys they liked. Lord knew _she _had never been this obsessive. And now, here she was, freaking out and recruiting _Abby's_ fashion help.

She could kill Quil for doing this to her.

But then she'd miss him.

Damn him.

She forced her breathing to come out even as she walked down the stairs. What to say…what to say…what to say… "Emily! Who was at the door?" _That_ was the best she could come up with? She should have practiced in front of the mirror… or something!

Emily poked her head out of the kitchen and into the hallway, flashing her a knowing smile that seemed to say, _as if you don't already know._ "Quil."

Claire prepared her best smile as she slid into the kitchen, but then faltered. "Where'd he go? Don't tell me he ran away again."

"Your faith in me is astounding," Quil commented dryly, entering from the other entrance.

_Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush. Damn it, why am I so freaking nervous?! _"Hey, it isn't my fault you have a bad track record." She could see Sam's head over his shoulder. If she wasn't mistaken, her uncle looked incredibly amused.

"You ready to go? I told Jake I'd help Embry barbecue."

"Embry can't barbecue by himself?"

"Embry has the attention span of a fish, so, unless you wanted hard-as-rock burnt steaks, it's in everyone's best interest for me to be there."

Claire laughed. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. Well then, let's go."

Quil grinned, nodding as he placed a single hand to the small of her back and gave her a gentle push toward the door.

She fought to hide her gasp. Through the thin fabric of her shirt, it felt as though his hand were burning into her back. His touch was so gentle, so… argh! It made it difficult to breath, much less _think_.

Emily gave her a knowing smile, arching one eyebrow the tiniest bit. Claire fought back a smile, shrugging a little.

"Have fun!" Emily sing-songed.

Claire stuck her tongue out while Quil laughed, "Are you going to call her a meanie again?"

She turned her petulant gaze to her companion, "You're a meanie. Bye, Sam!" She threw one hand up, waving over her shoulder.

Sam nodded, his lips twitching up slightly. "Quil."

It surprised her, the way his voice sounded like that of a commanding officer speaking to a mere foot soldier. Even more surprising was the way Quil stopped walking immediately, turning back to face her uncle, his gaze inquisitive.

"Take care of her."

She felt a rush of warmth. As independent as she'd always been, it _was _nice to have people around who worried about her and took care of her. She craned her neck around to look at Quil.

The object of her fascination merely nodded, "You know I will."

"I know."

Something weird, something Claire couldn't quite put her finger on, thickened the atmosphere, and she couldn't help but feel as though there was something hidden hanging over her head. There was something in the way they were acting, something in the tone of their voices…

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "We should get going, no? We don't want Embry burning all the food."

Quil laughed lightly under his breath. "No. Come on."

He didn't take his hand from her back as they made their way out of the house, and toward his car. He opened the door from her, shutting it behind her before making his way over to the other side of the car.

Claire couldn't help but scoff a little on the inside. Was he serious? Clearly, no one had informed Quil that chivalry was dead. She couldn't remember the last time a guy had opened the door for her. Oh, well. She wasn't going to tell Quil _not _to open the door for her.

"What are you smirking about?" He asked, glancing over at her as he turned the car on.

"Nothing," she replied. "So who is going to be at this thing?"

"Uh…me, obviously. Jake, Embry, Embry's girlfriend, and I think Kim and Jared. Kim might bring some friends."

"Kim and Jared are going to be there?"

"Yeah, they don't normally come, but Kim has been wanting to see you."

"Mm. I spoke to her on the phone, but the last time I saw her was when I was… when I was, well you know, having my 'moment.' _Anyways_…"

"How long do those 'moments' normally last?"

Way to kill the mood Quil, ask questions about her 'moments' of all things. "It depends, really. This past time… it didn't last as long as the other times." The observation brought to mind the rose. She chewed on her bottom lip, glancing at him from out of the corner of her eye.

Did she ask now, or later?

Claire opened her mouth, but Quil cut her off by asking, "So you're alright now? Completely and totally over the…moment."

She sighed. It was easy to get sick of people asking her about this stuff. "Completely fine. Wonderful, in fact."

He glanced at her fro m his position in the driver's seat, "You're getting sick of people asking you, aren't you?"

"Can't lie, it does get a little annoying to have everyone hover over you like they're afraid you're going to break any second. But, if I'm being honest, you guys are much better than my mom."

"How so?"

"She doesn't get as concerned as she gets angry. If there is one thing my mother hates, its not feeling in control."

"Is that why she blasted Emily's ear out yelling at her to send you back home? Cause she felt like she had no control?"

"Yeah, probably. She hates feeling like there isn't anything she can do when I'm… you know. And when I'm not, we're constantly bumping heads because I want to do one thing, and she wants me to do another."

"Do you argue a lot?"

Claire shrugged, "It's a constant push and pull, I guess."

"Did you call her yet?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Just not ready to talk to her yet," Claire replied, her tone of voice annoyed. "Can we change the subject, please?"

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"You." Claire replied immediately, "What about your family?"

"You mean my parents?"

"Yeah."

"My mom died a few years back, so it's just me these days."

She noted the deliberate avoidance of his father, but she sensed it was a touchy subject and didn't prod. "Any siblings?"

"Sure," Quil flashed a smile, "Embry and Jake."

She felt her own lips turn up in a smile. Yes, she could certainly see that. "So Jake lives with his dad, right?" She waited for the nod, "Where do you and Embry hang out then?"

"The three of us used to have an apartment together, but when Billy got sick, Jacob moved back in."

"So now it's just you and Embry?"

"Yeah."

She grinned, leaning back into the leather of her seat. "God, that apartment must be a disaster."

He shrugged, and she caught the faint outline of a smile on his face. "Sort of."

Quil was pulling into Jacob's driveway, slowing the car to a stop, so Claire shut her mouth and surveyed the house. It was relatively big, surrounded on almost all sides by trees, and the backyard was certainly spacious. A picket fence surrounded the house, but parts of it were broken, and in need of repair.

Jacob was taking care of just that, his shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants, a set of nails in his mouth, and a hammer in his hand. Beside him were Jared and Kim, leaning against each other, watching their companion as he hammered the wood methodically back together.

As she watched him work, the question erupted from her mouth. "Why doesn't Jake have a girlfriend?"

Quil was clearly caught of guard by the question, and his head snapped in her direction. "What?"

She was sure that there was probably a more tactful way of wording her question, but now that she'd already said it, there was no taking it back. "Why doesn't Jacob have a girlfriend?"

Quil shifted awkwardly in his seat, fiddling with his key as he pulled them out of the ignition. "Why do you want to know?"

She cocked an eyebrow, surprised by his tone, "What's with you?"

"Uh, nothing."

She smirked, "Do you think I have a crush on Jacob Black?"

Quil was reddening by the second, and if she'd been in a generous mood, she would've left him be. Except she wasn't in a generous mood, so she prodded him further.

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced out the window. "Do you?"

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "No!! Jacob is like… a brother. So is Embry." _You, not so much._ "Anyways, I'm just curious. Plus, the other day, when I was still… out of it… he sort of mentioned something to me."

Appearing much more at ease then he'd been seconds before, Quil relaxed into his seat. "What, exactly?"

"He said a couple of years he'd been in love, and that something happened and he was depressed for a long time."

"He told you that?"

She nodded, taking in his expression. "You seem surprised."

"I am. Jake doesn't normally talk about her – with anyone."

"I think he was just trying to get me out of my funk, you know, by sharing the experience. But is she the reason?"

"That he doesn't have a girlfriend?" Quil looked over at her, and she nodded. "Sort of. It was a long time ago. He really loved her."

"So what happened?"

"I don't think she really loved him. At least, not the way he wanted her too. Not with the same intensity."

"She left?" Her eyes were on Jacob as she asked the question, and she wondered just what he'd been through. He straightened his back, saying something to Jared to which his companion shook his head. Pulling his shirt from where he'd tucked it in, he wiped his forehead, and his eye caught hers. He smiled, and lifted her hand in a wave, putting down his hammer.

Quil followed her gaze, watching his friend rapidly close the distance between them. "She died."

**A/N: So, everyone should celebrate that I'm free!! No more exams, and no more classes. At least, not until college. But who cares, right? Anyways, this chapter came out a little differently than I had planned, since I planned on including a few more scenes, but that would have doubled it in size. Yikes! **

**So I was a little curious: the more I write this, the more I enjoy my little fanfiction world, and I was **_**thinking **_**about writing a sort of companion to THL about Jacob. I don't plan on posting the story (if I write it) until after this one is over, as it would take place after as far as timing goes, but I was wondering what you all thought of the idea. So, drop in an let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 9: Tip of the Iceberg

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Nine: Tip of the Iceberg**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

_She died._

She barely had time to blink before Jacob was at the door, motioning for her to roll down the window so that they could speak freely to one another. Mechanically, she did just that, pressing the button and watching the glass lower until at last Jacob leaned toward her and his head poked inside the shelter of the car.

"Hey," he greeted, flashing a boyish grin, "took you both long enough to get here."

She nodded numbly, mumbling something completely incoherent.

Jacob frowned, "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She wasn't sure what to respond to him, so she simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Quil cut in quickly,

"So is Embry's current girl of the week here yet? How long do you think this one will last?"

The diversion worked, and Jacob transferred his gaze to Quil, grinning. "Not more than a few days. She's way too possessive. She was jealous of Kim, if you can believe it. Jared about ripped the girl to shreds because of the way she was treating her."

It was only a few seconds of conversation, but it was enough time for Claire to piece herself back together and regain her composure. "I take it the girl you guys are talking about is going to be present at this lovely gathering?"

Jacob nodded, "Already is present – unfortunately. Jared, Kim, and I left her out back with Embry."

"Well, no wonder he keeps burning the steaks, people. Has no one but myself noticed that Embry is led around by the lower half of his anatomy?"

"Oh, we've noticed, believe me," Quil assured her, pushing open the door and slipping outside. "Come on, let's go save the food."

Jacob stepped back and opened the door for her, leaning in and whispering in her ear. "Are you sure you're alright? You were pretty pale there."

"I'm fine," Claire assured her, despite the feeling that her stomach had just plummeted to her feet. She surveyed the house, "Where's your dad?"

"He went fishing with a friend."

"You don't sound very happy about that," she noted.

Jacob rolled one shoulder, "He doesn't want to admit he's getting old and he needs me. It's damn annoying as hell."

She nodded in sympathy, "Have I actually met your father before?"

"Sure, he was here the last time you came over."

The imagine of an angry beast that looked a lot like herself yelling at a bunch of old people flashed in her mind and she winced. "Eh, was he? The _entire _time?"

"Yeah."

"He didn't leave the house even for a second?"

Jacob frowned at her. "No, why?"

_Damn it_. "Nothing. I just… don't think he'll like me much."

"Why wouldn't he like you?" It was Quil who asked the question, a frown creasing the skin between his eyebrows.

Claire managed an embarrassed laugh. "I might have thrown a bit of a tantrum the last time I saw him."

"You threw a tantrum?" Jacob looked more than a little amused.

Claire hung her head, "Yes. There was a lot of screaming involved, some loud shrieking, and the occasional swear. Not exactly my best moment."

Still both boys only laughed, more amused than anything. She scowled at them, but they only laughed harder. With a huff of indignation, she stalked away, quickening her pace and making her way over to Kim and Jared.

As always, the adoring couple looked sickeningly sweet. Jared was leaning against the good part of the fence, his back to her, and his arm around Kim's waist, and Kim had her arms around his neck and her head buried in his chest.

Claire felt a flash of longing as she took in the scene. She glanced at Quil out of the corner of her eye.

And then flushed bright red when she found him staring at her, a knowing glint in his eyes.

It was then that Jared, bless his heart, glanced over his shoulder and saw them, nudging his fiancé and waving in greeting.

"Well, look who finally got out of her house."

Kim swatted him on the arm.

"What?!" Jared exclaimed, his expression bewildered. "What did I say?"

Kim rolled her eyes, "Don't you think you could try and be a _little _more tactful?"

"About what?"

Claire laughed loudly, and beside her, Quil and Jacob were both grinning. "Don't worry about it, Kim, at least he isn't treating me like I'm breakable."

"Still…"

"Don't worry about it," Claire insisted. "Honestly, the only thing we need to be worried about here is Embry burning the food. Speaking of which, I can't believe you guys left him alone with a girl at the grill."

"You would have to," Jared informed her, "the company wasn't exactly pleasant."

"Whatever," Quil cut in, "let's just get back while the food is edible."

Claire had been certain that the rest had been exaggerating in their description of Embry's girlfriend. After all, his taste couldn't possibly be _that_ bad.

Unfortunately, they hadn't. That much she knew when the girl sized her up, arched an eyebrow, and glanced back at Embry before asking in a disgusted tone,

"Who is she?"

As if Jacob hadn't just said her name.

Quil took a small step closer, his arm sliding discreetly around her waist. Claire smiled despite her flash of annoyance, enjoying the feeling. She knew he was, in his own way, trying to make a statement that he would stick up for her and protect her, but, at least this time, she didn't need him to.

Girls like this, she could handle. "I'm Embry's secret lover, he's been cheating on you with me since the very beginning. I'm sorry, but you had to know. He's just using you. He always does this. He finds a new girl, has a little fling, but comes back with his tail between his legs within a week." She sighed dramatically, shaking her head sadly in Embry's direction.

She could feel Quil stifling his laughter, and Jacob had snorted rather loudly while Jared had hastily excused himself. Kim had attempted to cover up her reaction as a cough.

Embry looked torn between amusement, shock, and annoyance, but Claire didn't care much. He might as well consider it payback for his stunt with Matt.

"Excuse me?"

The idiotic girl didn't even realize she was being sarcastic!

"Oh, you're excused."

Quil leaned down, resting his forehead on the top of her head and laughing softly into her hair.

"Embry!!" She shrieked loudly.

"Er, Tessa?"

Claire smiled sweetly, "I'm going to go flip those steaks."

She proceeded to drag Quil in the direction of the grill. She waited until they were a safe distance away before muttering, "Do you think she'll leave?"

Quil glanced over his shoulder, "They're arguing pretty bad. If we're lucky…"

"God, I hope so. I can't believe she believed me!"

While Embry and his hopefully soon to be ex-girlfriend argued, Jacob, Kim, Jared, Quil, and Claire all gathered around the large patio table.

"How are you keeping up with school then? You're a senior, right?"

Claire nodded, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Yeah. I spoke to all of my teachers before I came over here, and they gave me a syllabus and all that stuff. I'm supposed to send most of my stuff through email, and everything else through normal mail. Tests and what not, I have to take online. I could have transferred to a school over here, but it didn't seem to have a point, since I don't even know how long I'll be staying."

"Do you miss New York a lot?"

Jacob was the one who asked the question, but she noticed Quil in particular seemed interested in the answer. Or maybe she was just imagining things, and he couldn't care less. "No, I don't. I really like it here, but…"

"But what?"

"Nothing," Claire said, in an attempt to dismiss the question. "I'd rather not talk about it. I've got a question for all of you, actually."

"What's up?" Quil asked, leaning toward her.

"I was talking to my sister earlier, Abby, and she was saying that she kind of remembers someone from when she was here. She said his name was Quil, and that he was around twenty when we visited. But I don't know of any Quil other than you," she nudged Quil gently, "so I thought I'd ask."

She hadn't thought of her question as anything out of the ordinary, but everyone immediately tensed up, and she was surprised to see them all sending each other side long glances.

"Guys? What's going on?"

Beside her, Quil shifted uncomfortably. "It's just… I mean… I…" He stood abruptly, pacing a few feet away before returning. "Shit," he murmured.

"Quil?"

Something was definitely off.

"God, what a freaking bitch!"

Embry's loud exclamation broke the silence, and everyone spun around to look at him. He took the attention in stride, and slumped down into an empty chair.

"I ended it. Hey, Kim, think you could pour me a glass of that iced tea?"

"Sure."

Everyone seemed to throw themselves into the conversation, but Claire couldn't help but feel as though she was missing something huge. She'd convinced herself, after coming out of her 'moment' that she was imagining things, but the more time she spent around everyone, the more convinced she was.

They were hiding something.

That was the only logical explanation.

After almost a full fifteen minutes of silence on her part, Quil slipped an arm around the back of her chair, leaning toward her so as to speak in a whisper. "Claire, are you alright? You feel ok?"

"I'm fine," she replied, shortly.

"You don't seem fine, what's up?"

"Nothing," she snapped, standing up. "I'm fine."

"What the… Come on, Claire, you aren't fine. You can talk to me."

"I can talk to you?" She snapped, the frustration of not knowing what was going on overcoming all of her other senses. "I hardly even know you."

His expression changed instantly, and she felt guilty, even though she didn't want to admit it.

Claire stood up, not even bothering to toss an apologetic glance in everyone else's direction as she took off. She heard Quil say something to everyone else, but she didn't bother to listen to just what he said.

God, she never _used_ to get set off so easily. She needed to calm down.

Her phone vibrating in her pocket brought her back to her senses, and she flipped it open, putting it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"When were you going to call, Claire? You know I've been worried about you."

Her heart plummeted. "Mom."

"Enough is enough, young lady. I didn't want to let you go on this damn trip anyway, but I let you go, but that does not mean you can do whatever you damn well please."

"Mom, that isn't—"

"Listen to me! I want you on the next plane home, and that is final."

Claire nearly cried out in disbelief, but she forced her calm to stay at least a little calm. "I'm not going home, Mom."

"I wasn't asking you whether you were coming home, Claire, I was telling you. I've already bought the ticket, get a pen, and I'll give you the account information and you can log all the details in online."

"I'm not going home, Mom."

"My account number is—"

"I'm not going home!" She screamed it, the words fairly ripping out of her throat. Behind her, she heard the conversation at the table come to an immediate halt. Part of her felt embarrassed, the other part of her didn't give a damn.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Claire Elizabeth? You are my daughter, and I am not going to let you throw your life away for some stupid little infatuation—"

"Infatuation? Mom, what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"I spoke to Abby, and she told me about your date with that boy, have you already forgotten that Matt—"

"Are you freaking _kidding _me, Mom? You talk to Abby on holidays, that's it. You two don't talk any more than is absolutely necessary, and you've never, ever gotten along, and you choose now of all times to talk Abby's word over mine. Besides, Abby couldn't have told you anything but the truth, and the truth is, I'm at a cookout with some friends. Friends, Mom."

"Quil Ateara? Jacob Black? Embry Call? Claire, you don't know anything about those men! How can you even _think_ to call them friends?"

"Because that's what they are! My friends! And I've had _enough _of you trying to control my life. I'm not going to throw away the opportunity of getting to know these people, of getting to know Aunt Emily and my background, just because you don't want me to."

"I'm trying to protect you!" Hilary screamed.

"Protect me from what?!" Claire screamed back, "From who?!"

"From what can happen!"

"God, Mom, give me a straight answer at least. I'm so _sick_ of people dancing around the truth, just tell me. What are you trying to protect me from?!"

"Take down the account information, Claire, this isn't up for discussion—"

"I'm. Not. Going. Home."

"Yes,--"

"NO! I have always tried to compromise with you, Mom, always tried to do what I can because I know how hard you've worked to give me everything, but enough is enough. I'm doing what I want this time."

"Then don't come home."

At any other time, Claire might have passed the words up as an empty threat, but there was something behind them that told her Hilary was being serious. "What?" She breathed. "You can't possibly be serious."

There was a long period of silence, and then, "I want you home by the end of the first semester of school. Until then, you're attending classes at one of the local high schools, and _not_ the one on the reservation. I don't want you spending all of your time at La Push. I'll make the calls today, and you'll start class on Monday. You violate that compromise in any way, shape, or form, Claire, and you can forget about me, and stay there with the dogs."

"Mom—"

There was a small click, and Claire knew her mother had hung up the phone. All the blood seemed to have drained from her face, and she felt dizzy. Oh, God…

"Claire?"

The soft voice belonged to none other than Quil, and she turned, slowly, to look at him, eyes wide.

"Claire, what happened?"

She couldn't speak, couldn't form the words. How did could she explain? She didn't even know what had just happened.

He seemed to understand her, even through her loud gasps and dry tears, and pulled her to him in one quick motion, allowing her to bury her face in his chest and hide in his embrace.

It was so very warm within the shelter of his arms. Warmth seemed to be seeping into her body from every angle, and she breathed in deeply, allowing it to touch her core, letting it melt away the tension from her muscles.

Just having him near calmed her, despite her earlier frustration with him. What was it about Quil that made every other problem in her life melt away? All she'd had to do was dream about him, before, and her 'moment' had faded, and now…

"Quil?" She asked, his name muffled against his chest.

"Yeah?" He queried, running his hand gently up and down her back.

"Did I dream you? Or were you real?"

"What?"

"That night, in my room. You were there, weren't you? You were really there. I wasn't dreaming. You really said all those things to me, didn't you? You really took that rose." She pulled away, only slightly, so that she could see his face.

Quil seemed determined to look anywhere but at her, so she was forced to rise up on her tiptoes and brace his head between her hands. "Please tell me I'm not going crazy."

"I—"

"Please."

His eyes slid shut, and he gave a defeated sigh. "Yes, I was there."

"But how—"

His body went abruptly rigid, and his eyes flew open. He braced himself, in an almost protective stance, between herself and the forest, eyes scanning the trees as though he were looking for something.

Claire frowned. "Quil?"

"Don't move for a second." He almost seemed to be _smelling _for something, like a hunting dog or some other tracking animal.

His hand came up to rub angrily at his nose, as though he had smelt something particularly distasteful.

Yards away, Jacob stood up quickly, Jared and Embry following his example almost immediately. Their gazes flew to the forest.

Claire felt a chill creep down her spine, and she scooted a little closer to Quil for comfort. Her hand, without even realizing it, had found its way to his. "Quil? What's going on? What's out there?"

"You and Kim need to get inside the house, now."

She wasn't particularly fond of his tone, but she allowed him to drag her back toward the door. Jacob and Embry were still scanning the horizon as though they expected to see something evil jump out and attack them, and Jared had Kim halfway in the house.

"Guys, what's going on?" Claire asked.

Quil practically shoved her in the door. "Stay here. Don't move. Don't leave the house. I mean it, Claire."

"What did I tell you about people telling me what to do?"

"I don't care right now, Claire, I'm being serious. Stay in the house."

"What—"

"He's right," Jacob cut in. "You can't be leaving this house. I don't know how the damn thing got so close; it did a damn good job covering its trail. Stay in the house, make sure everything is closed off. You should be safe here."

"Safe from what?! What's going on?!"

"Call Emily, tell her you probably won't be home tonight. It's easier to protect you two from here; we don't have time to follow you back home."

"But—"

"Eat whatever you want, and if you need to change, you can take whatever the hell you want. Right now, we've got to go."

Embry flashed her a crooked grin and took off running toward the forest, Jared kissed Kim whispered an I love you and did the same.

Jacob kissed the top of her head, "Don't do anything stupid," he murmured. "Like last time."

And then he was gone too, and Kim was in the house.

Quil grinned, but it didn't reach his hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that were currently filled with worry. "Are you doing to get in the house now?"

"You expect me to go sit and twiddle my fingers in the house while you go out chasing after who knows what?"

Every single muscle in his body tightened, and he suddenly seemed very much anguished. "Please, Claire. For me. Be careful. I'm going to get myself killed if I go out there and I keep thinking about you the entire time."

It was the pleading tone of voice that had her nodding. "Alright."

"Thank you." He turned to walk away, but she caught his arm.

"Just… be careful, alright?"

His eyes softened, and he nodded slightly, running a single finger down the side of her face. "I will." He leaned down, brushed his lips against hers and disappeared, leaving her mind spinning, and questioning whether or not he had really just done that.

**A/N: I apologize if this chapter is a little choppy, but I felt like you all deserved a timely update for once. I foresee much drama in the chapters to come, so don't count on things wrapping up smoothly after this chapter. I'll probably go back and tweak it some more later, but for now, drop in and tell me what you think!**


	11. Chapter 10: The Puzzle

The Half Life

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Ten: The Puzzle**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own **_**Twilight**_**, Quil, or Claire. **

"What the hell is going on?"

Kim looked up slowly, cautiously, and tucked an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear. She pointed her foot, drawing circles on the hardwood floor. "What do you mean?"

Claire sighed in frustration. "What do you think I mean, Kim? What the hell is going on? I feel like I'm missing the big picture here."

Kim tilted her head back, slumping against the fabric of Jacob's brown couch. "Claire, I can't tell you anything other than what you already know. Besides, I'm worried too; we're both in the same boat here."

The even response took most of the wind out of her sails and she slumped down beside her friend, dropping her head into her hands. "Sorry, I'm being a bitch. You're right; I'm just worried as hell. Does this happen often? Them running out like there's no tomorrow and acting like any second we're all going to die."

"The running out like there's no tomorrow happens much more often than I'd like, and the freaking out and acting like we're all going to die… that only happiness when its close."

"What is 'it,' exactly?" She asked, lifting her head out of her hands to peak at Kim.

"…they're the guardians of La Push, Claire, they chase down everything that threatens to harm what they love."

"So you're admitting that whatever it is they went running after… isn't necessarily human?"

Kim looked away, her posture tense. "You saw that… criminal… in the woods that day, didn't you?"

Unsure of where she was taking the conversation, Claire nonetheless nodded. "Yes."

"Would you have called him human?"

Images flashed through her brain, the way the boy had crouched, the way he'd looked at her, the way he'd lunged and taken on that wolf…

"No. No, I wouldn't have."

Kim turned back to her, brown eyes somewhat sad. "Guess that's your answer then. I'm going to make some coffee."

"Wait, Kim!"

The brown haired girl paused midway to the door of the kitchen. "What is it?"

"How long are they normally gone?"

Kim shrugged. "It depends."

She left the room, and Claire slumped down, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts she couldn't quite piece together. She glanced at the clock, and wondered, in the back of her mind, how long she would have to wait.

-

_It was windy and cold as she stepped outside, following the trail slowly through the forest. Claire was, for once, completely calm, and took her time walking down the dirt covered path. She ran a hand over the leaves, and inhaled the scent of the flowers. Everything was, if only for a moment, suspended in this serene paradise._

_And then, she heard his voice. She felt his presence. And she felt the familiar pang of longing. _

_She stopped in mid-stride, pausing with her hand poised just so above the trunk of a tree. "Where are you?" _

"_Waiting."_

_She followed the voice, again picking up the same casual pace, as though she were afraid to disrupt anything. Her hand pushed away branch after branch, but she didn't call again. Part of her felt certain she was moving in the right direction, and that soon, she would find him._

_She stumbled into the clearing and realized, with a small start of surprise, that it was the same clearing she'd come upon the day she'd first met the wolf. The first time she'd realized that her dreams held a large amount of truth to them. _

_In the center, standing still and exuding an almost regal aura, was the wolf. _Her _wolf. She smiled._

"_Hello."_

_There was no verbal response, only a small dip of the head. Claire took another tentative step forward,_

"_Are you going to leave?"_

_Silence._

"_What are you?"_

_Stillness._

_She came within a foot of him before he shrunk back. Disappointment flashed within her, and she tilted her head. "Why do you keep running?"_

_There was no verbal response, but his eyes were almost frightened._

"_Are you afraid?" She asked, inching just a little closer. "…why? What could you possibly be afraid of?"_

"_There's so much you don't know…"_

_The response was only just above a whisper, and her subconscious had to work hard to decipher it. At last, the distance between them was closed, and she stood by the wolf's side. "I would know if you would tell me."_

"_You would leave. You wouldn't look at me the same…"_

_Her brow creased, "Is that it? Is that what you're afraid of? That I won't care for you anymore? But what could possibly be…"_

_She stopped, frozen, as the figure before her seemed to shimmer into that of a boy, and then back to a wolf. The figures seemed to meld together, so that somehow, she saw both at once._

Wha…

_Her head suddenly seemed to spin, and she squinted at the mirage in front of her. There was something familiar about that face…. Something in those eyes…_

_And then, at last, it came to her. "Quil?!"_

Claire came awake with a start, her eyes flying open as she gasped in surprise. Her heart was pounding, and her head was spinning, the image of Quil and the wolf running through her head like a movie scene on repeat.

It took her a few moments to realize that Kim was crouched on the floor beside her, her hand on Claire's shoulder as she murmured an incomprehensible string of words. Claire forced herself to take a deep breath and focus on what her friend was saying.

"…just a dream, don't worry, it was just a dream."

Claire nodded numbly, "I'm fine. It was just…"

"Was it the wolf?"

It was going to take awhile to adjust to the fact that everyone here knew about her dreams. "Yes. And Quil."

Kim tensed, slipping an arm around her shoulder. "And Quil?"

"Mm." Claire hunched forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she took in her surroundings. She was still in Jacob's living room, laying on the hardwood floor amidst the array of blankets she and Kim had brought down from one of the spare bedrooms earlier. Scattered all around the floor were the all of the board games they'd used in a vain attempt to distract themselves from the worry.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Claire shook her head, listening the howling that continued outside the house. It had started not too long after the boys had left, and apparently, the wolves were still out and about. Part of her wanted to run outside and find them – or more specifically, her dream walker.

"Not really," she braced her hands against the floor and stood up, letting the blankets fall from her lap and onto the floor. "Have you gotten any sleep?"

"A little," Kim admitted, "but I woke up when you started murmuring."

"I was murmuring?"

The brown haired girl smiled slightly, "Yes, you were."

"Sorry. What time is it anyway?"

"Almost two in the morning."

"And they still aren't back?"

She didn't miss the worry in Kim's eyes, "No. They still aren't back."

"Well, if we're going to be waiting, we might as well make some coffee. You want some?" Claire asked, stifling a yawn as she walked toward the kitchen.

Kim nodded, "I'll come with you."

Claire didn't protest to the company, but simply nodded, frowning as she heard the howls cease. "I wonder…"

Kim let out a relieved sigh, her head dropping against the kitchen table as she slumped into one of the seats. "Thank God…"

"Wha— They're back!" The ruckus coming from the greeting area could only be caused by Quil and the rest, of that she was certain.

Kim practically flew up from her seat and out to greet her fiancée, who accepted her hug and kiss without protest. Claire followed shyly behind, but started in surprise when she saw them.

"Um…guys…"

"What's up?" Jacob asked, brow creasing as he took in her facial expression.

"This might sound like a weird question, but… what happened to your pants?"

In unison, they all looked down. "What do you mean?" Jacob asked.

"You were wearing jeans before, and a shirt, now you have no shirt, and you're wearing sweats. Don't tell me this is like your crime-fighting uniform."

Quil snorted a little. "Hardly."

Jacob just arched an eyebrow and shrugged. "Eh."

She blinked.

Jared hugged Kim and yawned widely. "I'm ready to sleep. You ready to go home, babe?"

Kim provided an enthusiastic nod, and within seconds the pair was out the door.

"Did you both wait up the entire time?" Jacob asked as he led the way up the stairs.

Claire shook her head, "We both fell asleep for a little bit, but then I had this dream and… well, I woke us both up."

Quil shot her a guarded look, "The wolf again?"

She nodded. "Yeah. By the way, where's Embry?"

"He went straight back to the apartment," Jacob replied, pausing as he reached the door to his bedroom. "Hey, Quil, can you handle getting Claire into the spare bedroom? I'm beat."

She didn't miss the way Quil rolled his eyes as he agreed, "Sure."

And then it was just the two of them. "So…" She began, a little awkwardly. "How did it go?"

"Alright," he replied, opening the door to one of the bedrooms and motioning her inside.

"Just alright?" She asked, slipping into the room.

"Just alright."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

She felt her frustration rise quickly, "Well, you don't have to be such an ass about it."

He opened his mouth to make a quick reply, but seemed to think better of it and remained silent for a second. "Get some sleep, I'm going to go. It looks like the bed is made already, but if not, there are some sheets in the closet over there."

"You're going back to the apartment?" She questioned.

"No, I'm staying here."

"Well, then wait a second. I want to ask you something."

"Its almost two in the morning, can't it wait?"

"No."

He was incredibly tense, to the point that even if she hadn't spent the entire day studying his every move, she would have noticed it.

"What is it, Claire?" He asked, his voice tired.

"What happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you guys took off like maniacs, locked me and Kim in the house, and didn't come back until one in the morning. Not normal. What happened?"

"It was just… it was… I…"

She frowned, "You can tell me, whatever it is. I can handle it."

"You don't even know what 'it' is."

"I would know if you would tell me. Come on, since the beginning a blind person could see the way you've all hid something from me. I'm not used to being treated like a breakable doll. Tell me what's going on!"

"You aren't used to being treated like you're breakable, because you aren't used to being in a position where you _are _breakable."

"_I'm trying to protect you!"_ Her mother had told her earlier. From what, though? God, she was so confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, Claire. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Why is everyone telling me they're trying to protect me?! I can protect myself!"

"You don't even know from what!"

"I would if **you would tell me**!"

"Well, I won't."

"Why not?! I deserve to know!"

"You deserve _not_ to know. You deserve a choice."

He was speaking in riddles, and she had absolutely no idea what was going on. All she knew was that she wanted – no, _needed_ – to know what was going on. "I deserve a choice about what?"

"What you want."

She let out a humorless laugh. "What I want is to know what's going on. What I want is to stay here. What I want is to be—" She cut herself off abruptly. Oh, _crap_. Had she just been about to say 'what I want is to be with you?'

Nice going, Claire, that wouldn't have made things awkward at all.

"You don't know what you're asking for."

They were going around in circles. Tedious, and _annoying_ circles. "What do you care anyways? Like you said before it's about what I want to do with _my_ life. It's my decision."

"It's not a very educated one."

"That doesn't matter," she insisted petulantly.

"Why don't you get it?!" Quil yelled abruptly, "Why the _hell_ don't you get it? It isn't safe, and it isn't advisable for you to stay here! So why the hell are you so adamant about not going back to New York?!"

She'd never been very receptive to people yelling at her, and now was no exception. "Why the hell don't _you_ get it? I'm so damn tired of you and my mother trying to tell me what to do and how to live my life. It's my life, and if I want to become a druggie with no job and no future, who the hell cares?

Stop trying to push me around! Both of you! I don't want to go home, and you two shouldn't try and force me to. What the hell did I ever do to you anyways?! Why don't you want me here?

I don't like games, Quil, so stop jerking me around like I'm a toy. If you hate me and want me to get lost, at least be up front about it, I'm not a damn yo-yo."

"That's not what I'm saying!" He screamed back at her, hands moving in all sorts of little motions to emphasize his point. "That's not why I'm saying at all, but you said it yourself, there's stuff that you don't know about, and I can't explain it to you."

"You won't explain it to me."

"Fine. I won't explain it to you—"

"Because you want me to leave!"

"I don't want you to leave, _damn it_!"

"Then what do you want?!" Silence. Her heart sunk. She didn't know just what she'd been expecting, but… The anger slowly drained out of her, and she said in a tired voice, "Go to hell, Quil." That was when she decided to make her dramatic exit – where she would go, she had no idea, but she'd planned on leaving the room.

But as she took two determined steps, she heard Quil curse softly under his breath before murmuring. "Claire, wait."

She didn't turn around, mostly because her sense of dignity wouldn't allow it, but she did stop in mid step. From behind she felt his warm, large hand slip down her arm, continuing its journey until his fingers brushed the palm of her hand.

She gave an involuntary shiver.

He turned her around slowly, and her breath caught with the realization that he stood not a foot away.

She turned her blue eyes, open wide, up to look at his. _Quil…?_

"It kills me to have you so close, you know that?"

She blinked.

"There's this one side of me that knows it would be better to push you away. That tells me – constantly – that it's the right thing to do, but I can't do it. Damn it, I can't do it. I know this is hard for you, but believe me when I say, it's a million times worse for me. I don't know what to do, or what to say, or how to make you see that I _care_ about you, Claire. A lot."

"Do you want me to break down crying and thank you?" She asked, sourly. "Just make a decision, Quil. Either you want me or you don't." The stupid circles they kept running in hurt too much. She tried to wrench her hand from his grasp, but he was a million times stronger than she was, and moving away wasn't really option.

"You don't believe me?"

"Your track record isn't the greatest, Quil, what do you think?"

He cursed again softly, and then before she had time to so much as breath, his lips were on hers. It wasn't the mere brush of his lips against hers that he'd bestowed before. This was something entirely new, and entirely foreign.

She'd kissed her fair share of guys, but _nothing_ could even compare to the feel of Quil's lips on hers. At first, his kiss was intense, and slightly overpowering, as though he was determined to make his point with it. To prove to her how much she meant to him, and just how much he _didn't _want her to leave.

His hand disconnected from hers to cup the back of her neck, and his other arm wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She tilted her head back instantly, following his movements like a pliant doll in his arms.

Her own response was immediate after she'd recovered from the shock of his kiss. Her arms wound around his neck, ensuring that he would not be able to pull away before she was prepared to release him. Her lips parted, and she replied with an intensity and emotion she hadn't even known she was capable of.

All of her boyfriends, she had seen and felt were only temporary companions. This kiss was different. This was the kiss she wanted for the rest of her life. She wanted this same intensity, this same passion, this same boy, as crazy and impossible as he was.

She wanted the boy who had come to visit her that night in her room, carrying a white and red rose. She wanted the boy who had held her without asking questions when after she'd hung up the phone with her mother. She wanted the boy who'd sat in Emily's kitchen with her, laughing about _The Muppet Babies_ and defending Miss Piggy. She wanted the man who'd worried about her, and protected her earlier that day. She wanted the man who was currently kissing her with as though his life depended on it, as though he only ever wanted _her_.

And God help her, she only wanted _him_.

The kiss slowly turned sweet and slow, but equally as torturous. He dwarfed her in height, and despite the fact that she stood on her tiptoes, he still had to lean down. She pushed herself farther up, pressing her lips more fully against his, wishing that the sweet feeling would never stop and time would stand still.

It was so utterly cliché, but there it was. He had her, and that was that. She couldn't imagine anyone else being able to turn her insides into mush with a single kiss. Matt certainly hadn't.

He whispered her name, and she responded with his own. Any doubts she had were vanquished with the sound, and she smiled into his kiss.

And then, slowly, he pulled away, and reluctantly, she let him go and fell back onto the heels of her feet.

She half expected an apology, or some such equally predictable reaction to the kiss, but instead he was silent, giving her a half smile before turning away, toward the window.

Claire felt a sliver of uncertainly and took a hesitant step toward him, trying to act as though her mind _wasn't _still reeling and her lips weren't just the tiniest bit swollen.

"Quil?"

He gave a short laugh. It didn't sound sarcastic, but neither was it filled with amusement. "Do you still think I want you to leave?"

Her lips turned upward slowly into a satisfied and confident smile. "No."

There was no question in her response, and he turned to face her again, the ghost of a smile on his face. "Good."

Silence.

Claire racked her brain for something coherent and intelligent to say in response to the moment. Something that didn't sound desperate or needy. She didn't want to sound like one of those girls she'd always made fun of, but she couldn't help but wonder where they stood now. A platonic relationship was impossible – and, she could admit it now – had never been a possibility.

He was much too attractive for that.

What ended up blurting from her mouth was, "My mom wants me to go to school outside of the reservation. She says I shouldn't spend all of my time here."

A looked of disappointed resignation passed through his beautiful hazel eyes, and he nodded. "It's probably better that way."

She frowned – not in anger, but in confusion.

Quil shifted so that he faced her. "The most educated decision comes from knowing both sides of the argument. Before you decide for La Push, maybe it's a good idea to see what else there is."

"I've seen the 'what else,'" she responded, a bit petulantly. "I've _lived_ the 'what else.' It isn't very pretty, or what I want."

He leaned against the wall, "But you'll do it anyway, won't you?"

She gave a resigned sigh. "Yes," she admitted, moving away from him and back toward the bed. It was too tempting to stand in such close proximity when all she wanted to do was yank his lips back down to meet hers.

"Why do you fight it so much?"

"Why do you think I'm so out of place here?" Her voice, for once, wasn't filled with accusation, but was rather curious.

"It's not exactly a common choice to make. Most people would go running the other way."

She shrugged, "Naw. You all are too interesting."

He grinned, "Are we?"

"Mm. Especially Embry. I mean, where would I be without him and his damn porn stash and psycho girlfriends? By the way, does he _always_ have girls like that?"

"Pretty much. Embry doesn't exactly go for the brains."

"Apparently not." She glanced at the clock, "Shit, it's already three in the morning. Heh. I should probably get some sleep."

Quil nodded, "Yeah, you should. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

She wasn't particularly keen on the idea of him leaving, so she hastened out of her bed and scrambled to grab his hand. "Stay," she ordered, surprised when she didn't even blush.

He blinked down at her. "What?"

"Just stay. I don't know why, but I'm kinda jumpy right now and not fond of the idea of being alone. Do you…mind?"

His hazel eyes searched her face, and whatever he was looking for, he must have found, because he nodded, and allowed her to lead him back toward the king sized bed.

She fit perfectly in his embrace, and found that she didn't like the idea of leaving it. She wondered, absentmindedly, what Jacob would do when he realized they'd slept in the same room. Granted they hadn't actually done… well, _that_… nor did she plan on it, but still…

"Go to sleep," Quil's voice whispered in her ear. "You're thinking too hard."

She grinned, and turned over so that her face was pressed into his chest. His large hand rubbed her back, and he kissed the top of her head.

She didn't dream again.


	12. Chapter 11: A Family

The Half Life

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Eleven: A Family**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight**_**, Quil, or Claire.**

She was warm when she woke up the next morning, but also, unfortunately, alone.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and she squinted against the sunlight that invaded the room, grumbling beneath her breath as she defiantly stuffed her head into the pillow.

That was when she realized that Quil's arm – which had provided a constant weight across her waist for the entire night – was no longer there. Following this line of thought, she frowned and flipped onto her other side, so that she faced the side of the bed on which he'd slept.

No Quil. Just a barely visible imprint of his body in the space where it had previously been. Although…

She smiled, her hand reaching out slowly to take hold of the stem of the rose which now lay across the pillow. She bit her lip, hardly believing her eyes as she sat up in the bed, allowing the blankets to pool around her waist. She frowned, slightly confused.

She could remember that sometime during last night, she'd kicked off all the blankets, as Quil had provided more than enough heat with his abnormal body temperature. God, the boy was practically a space heater.

Claire reached for the white and red rose – almost an exact replica of the one he'd left her days earlier – and brought it to her nose, inhaling the sweet scent.

Did he have to be so romantic?

It made it so difficult for her not to fall for him.

Which all brought her back to her original question of where exactly he'd disappeared off to.

With a determined grunt, she threw off the blankets and kicked her legs free, getting off the bed. It was a cool morning, so she towed one of the blankets with her, wrapping it around her frame as she tiptoed barefoot down the hall.

"Quil? Jake?"

No answer.

Claire continued her journey down the stairs, her ears perking up when she heard a series of loud bangs coming from the kitchen.

"Damn it! I'm not a damn housewife!"

She grinned. Jacob.

Apparently, he was trying to cook.

"I've noticed," came the dry answer.

Her grin faded. It wasn't Quil, and it wasn't Embry. So… she poked her head around the corner. At the table, watching Jacob with a wry smile on his face, was an older man who Claire guessed was none other than Billy Black. Either that or it was some random old man who looked freakishly like Jacob.

Oh _crap_, she thought, this man had seen her hissy fit.

"Um, hi?" She squeaked, knocking pathetically on the wood of the doorway and pulling the blanket – which still held the faintest hint of Quil's scent – tighter around her body for comfort.

Jacob, who was looking furiously down at the pan in his hand, seemed more than a little relieved to see her. "Hey, Claire."

"Uh, hi," she said again, glancing pointedly at Billy.

"Oh, right. Claire, this is my dad, Billy Black. Dad, meet Claire."

She could swear Billy stared at her for a full two minutes before he finally smiled, leaning forward in his wheelchair to stretch out one hand. "I remember you."

She managed an awkward laugh, "I was afraid of that."

Jacob and Billy both shared a laugh at her expense, and she felt the tension in her body ease up as Billy motioned her into an empty chair. She slid in, putting the rose on top of the table before asking,

"So…uh…where's Quil?"

Jacob grinned knowingly, glancing down at the aforementioned rose. "He had the morning shift."

"The morning shift?" She hadn't been aware that there were guardian "shifts." She'd have to ask Sam about that later, after she got through yelling at him for ruining her morning. Although, then she might have to explain what she was doing in bed with Quil to begin with, which might lead to an awkward line of questioning.

"For patrol. Normally, he doesn't mind it, but he was a little pissed this morning when he left."

Despite herself, she smiled. "Was he? So you guys have shifts? When's yours?"

"When he gets back."

"Wow, way to offer a lot of information there, Jake. And when will he be back?"

Billy seemed amused by her sarcasm, grinning as he shook his head. "Bit of a temper you've got there."

She blushed, but shrugged nonetheless. "I guess. Jacob, dear, is there a way you might be able to tell me when Quil returns? _Please_?" She batted her eyelashes for effect, before turning back to Billy. "Better?"

The older man laughed.

Jacob snorted. "Three."

"In the afternoon?" She grumbled, "What time did he leave?"

"Seven. Are we done with the questioning now?"

"Just one more," she told him, holding up a single finger.

"Oh, and what's that?"

The finger moved to point at the object in his hand, "What the _hell_ are you trying to feed me?"

The flattened black object was lumpy, soggy, and burnt all at once. Not exactly a good combination. Not to mention the fact that the thing was falling apart.

Billy burst out laughing, and Claire felt a smile tug at her lips as Jacob groaned, tilting the pan so the disgusting object fell to its death in the awaiting trash can.

"It was supposed to be a pancake."

"That was a pancake?" She said, sensing that pride was an issue here and trying to hold back her laugher.

"I'm not a damn housewife!"

"So I've heard," she grinned.

"You don't need to tell me," Billy said dryly, "all I ever eat is cereal for breakfast. Or, if I'm really lucky, some stale toast."

"Ah."

Jacob glowered, "Yeah, and next time you won't even get that."

"What've you got in this refrigerator of yours, Jake?" Claire asked, slipping toward the looming object.

Jacob shrugged. "I don't know. I just kind of throw everything in the carriage."

"Spoken like a true male," she rolled here eyes. Although, in all fairness, her father could cook. The refrigerator was only half full, but Claire surmised quickly that he had a decent amount of breakfast foods. "How about I handle breakfast? Consider it a thank you for letting me spend the night."

When she got no protests, Claire began to open and close each of the cabinets, trying to scope out just what Jacob had to eat.

"Speaking of which…" she glanced back at Billy, "Where were you last night? Oh, god, please don't tell me I ran you out of your own house!"

"Hardly," Billy assured her.

"I called him," Jake explained, "just after we left. Told him to stay put." The phone started ringing, so Jacob reached behind him and answered with a curt, "Yeah?"

"So friendly," Claire teased.

He rolled his eyes. "Hey, Emily. Good. Yeah, she's here… Sure." He presented the phone to her with a flourish, "Your aunt."

"Thanks," she said, balancing the phone on her shoulder so that she could continue working while she spoke. It was warm in the kitchen – thanks to Jacob's attempt at cooking – so she allowed the blanket to fall from her shoulders. "Emily?"

"Hey there," the relief was evident in Emily's voice. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Nothing happened?"

"Other than Jacob trying to give me food poisoning with his cooking? No, not really."

Her aunt laughed. "He's excellent at barbecuing, but his cooking…"

"Yeah, not so much," Claire laughed with her.

"Hey!" Jacob protested, "If all you're going to do is insult me, then give me my phone back."

Claire stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Hey, Emily, hold on a second would you?"

"Mmhmm."

She held the phone away from her ear before asking, "Do you mind if I invite them over for breakfast?"

"As long as I'm not cooking…" Both of her companions shrugged carelessly, so she took that as a 'no' and brought the phone back to her ear.

"Aunt Emily, have you eaten yet?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, then why don't you come over here? With Sam. I'm making the food, so don't worry about getting sick."

Jacob protested vehemently in the background, but Claire just smiled.

A mere ten minutes later, Emily was marching into the kitchen armed with a plate of muffins and towing Sam along behind her. She grinned as she took in the sight before her; Jacob attempting – and failing – to make scrambled eggs, Claire flipping pancakes, and Billy watching it all with a knowing grin.

"Just give up," he told his son, "that doesn't constitute as food. No one is going to eat it."

"How do you survive?" Claire questioned, "You don't have a cook. What do you eat?"

Jacob shrugged. "Whatever's around."

"Nice. Hey Emily!"

"Morning," Emily returned her greeting as she came to stand beside her, eyes scanning the golden brown pancakes. "Glad to see you don't take after your mother – poor woman can't even boil water."

"True," Claire acknowledged, nodding her head. "Why do you think I had to learn how to cook?"

"I was a little worried," Emily admitted.

"Which is why you brought the muffins."

"Guilty as charged."

Sam shook his head grinning, "I told you she had it under control."

"Thanks, Sam," Claire shot him a charming smile. She returned his half-hug hello.

"So," Emily began with a sly smile that surprised her niece. "Did you sleep well?"

"Try not at all," Jacob cut in with a wicked grin.

Claire spun around to look at him, "Come again? I slept!"

"Really? Because all I heard was a bunch of yelling."

"Yelling?" Sam cut in, frowning. "Who was yelling?"

"This one," Jacob motioned to her, "and Quil."

"Drama!" Embry's voice cut into the conversation as he came barreling into the kitchen, grinning like a fool. "And food!"

"Who invited you?!" Claire slapped his hand away from the muffins, "You don't get any!"

"Hey!!" Embry playfully threw a folded up napkin at her, "Jake called me."

"Jacob!" Claire whined.

"Why were you arguing?" Sam again, "Did he do something?" There was an edge in his voice that alerted Claire to the fact that, despite not spending too much time with her, Sam was still protective.

"No!" Claire was exasperated. "It was nothing."

"Methinks the lovers had their first spat."

"Who talks like that? Anyways, shut up, Embry. It wasn't exactly our first spat."

"You guys are going around in circles!" Emily exclaimed, "Out with it already."

Everyone turned to Jacob.

The boy shrugged nonchalantly. "We got back around one thirty, Quil took Claire to her room, and they started screaming at each other."

"What was the problem, exactly?" Sam growled.

"Quil didn't want to tell me whatever it is you all are hiding!" Claire yelled, exasperated. "That's all."

"And then Claire thought that maybe he didn't care about her, and he wanted to run her out of town."

"JACOB BLACK!" She shrieked, attempting to swat him with the spatula in her hand. "Shut _up_!"

"Aw, honey, that's not it," Emily's voice had taken on a tone of motherly comforting.

"Oh, she knows. Because then Quil proceeded to kiss her senseless. At least, that's what I think happened. Because there was this long period of sudden silence…"

Embry seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as he laughed, "Aw, Claire. Don't be embarrassed."

"I'm. Going. To. Kill. You." She ground out, feeling her face turn a very, very bright shade of red.

"So to wrap up this story," Jacob continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Quil did not emerge until early this morning when he had to leave for patrol, which leads me to believe—"

"WHAT?!"

Oh, god. Sam.

Oh good lord. No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening.

She could feel herself turning a bright shade of red. Her uncle thought that she'd slept with Quil. Her _uncle_. And now, she had a kitchen full of people discussing her love life.

Jacob apparently finally realized it was time to stuff his huge foot in his equally large mouth because he shut up, eyes widening. "Um, Sam—"

"What?!" Sam's voice was now a deadly growl, and if not for the fact that she believed Quil's life was at risk, Claire would have gone running in the other direction. "He said he wasn't going to pressure her. She hasn't even been in La Push for _a month._"

"I'm not pressured!" Claire interjected. "I swear. No pressure. Really. I mean, nothing happened. We did argue, but I wasn't pressured. I—" She forced herself to stop babbling, knowing that she wasn't even making sense.

"I'm going to kill him."

She turned a pleading glance to the rest of the occupants in the room – mainly Emily and Billy, who she deemed to have the most influence over Sam's actions.

No one moved.

"Sam, I swear nothing happened." She repeated for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Yeah, sure," Embry snorted.

"Gah! Shut up!" She threw her hands up.

"But this is so fun."

"It's not fun!!"

Everyone seemed to start discussing the situation at once. Emily and Jacob began to try and convince Sam that he shouldn't kill Quil, as Claire and Embry argued over whether the situation was 'fun' or not, and Billy rolled his eyes and made his way out of the room. She tried, and failed, to get everyone's attention for a long enough time span to explain again that nothing had happened, but Embry kept badgering her with his teasing.

She must have told him to "shut up" and "stop it" a million times, but what eventually ripped out of her mouth was, "I DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH QUIL, ALRIGHT?!"

Silence.

The entire kitchen turned to look at her, eyes wide with surprise, and jaws slack with shock. The tips of her ears heated up, and she forced her embarrassment back down. "Um, really?"

Sam looked slightly perturbed that the word 'sex' had come out of her mouth, but he seemed to calm significantly. "He didn't force you into anything?"

"No." Claire said for the umpteenth time. "He didn't. So everyone just… relax, alright? Please?"

It took a few moments for the tension to disperse, but eventually everyone settled back into a more normal train of conversation, and Claire found herself smiling despite herself. _This_ was a family in all its glory.

This was precisely what she had hoped to find. Her mother was, of course, her flesh and blood, but life in New York had been too stiff, too detached. Hilary and Claire lived in the same house, sure, but they hardly crossed paths. Claire would come home to find her mother pouring over some case, and invariably she would end up eating dinner by herself in her room.

Emily, Sam, Jacob, Embry, Quil…heck, even Billy were part of a family – this family – and Claire felt like now, she was too.

She couldn't, try as she might, think of a single reason why she would ever want to leave.

-

"About Quil…"

"Oh, god, no. Don't ask. Don't question. Just stop talking. Please, just stop talking."

"No, I—"

"No! Stop talking, Jake. You did quite enough earlier, believe me."

"But, I didn't mean—"

"Shut up."

"I just want to—"

"I'm not listening to you."

"Would you just—"

"Lalalalalala."

"Huh."

"Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything."

"I saw the face."

"What face?"

"I know I can't sing, alright?"

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to, I can tell. Now, stop it before I throw this plate at you."

"Do you know how amusing it is to just sit back and watch you both? It's like watching a TV show… or something."

Claire stuck her tongue out playfully at Embry, rolling her eyes at him for her position in front of the sink. "You shut up too. I'm still mad at you."

"What did I do?" He protested, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I didn't even say anything."

"That's what I keep saying," Jacob mumbled.

Claire scowled, rinsing one of the plates off before shoving it at him. "Dry this. And what haven't you done, Embry? You made Matt think I was cheating on him, and then you fueled the flames earlier. I'm _still_ recovering from my embarrassment."

Embry chuckled. "It's not my fault your boyfriend has self-confidence issues."

"Matt is not my boyfriend!!"

"Ex-boyfriend, then. Plus, you told _my_ girlfriend that you were my secret lover, so we're even."

"Ex-girlfriend," Claire corrected, her tone smug as she rinsed off yet another dish and handed it to Jacob. "Am I the only one upset that Emily, Sam, and Billy jetted as soon as they were done stuffing their faces?"

Jacob grunted.

"No," Embry said, "girlfriend."

It took her a few minutes, but once she caught on, she was livid. "WHAT?! You're still dating that psycho? Are you high?!"

Embry appeared to be extremely amused. Like always. "Well, I knew how fond you were of her—"

"Gah!" She threw up her gloved hands, tiny suds flying everywhere and clinging to her hair. "But she's _psycho_!"

"But she's so damn good looking. Did you see that—"

"Stop!" She pointed one finger at him menacingly. "Don't finish that sentence."

"But—"

"NO!"

"Fine," he grumbled.

Claire rolled her eyes. "What am I going to do with you two?"

"Quil told me about the argument you two had." Jacob tried again.

She squinted at him suspiciously. "And what exactly did he tell you?"

"Basically what he told everyone earlier."

Claire spun around to look at Embry, her expression incredulous. "You heard about it to?!"

"No secrets," Embry replied simply, as though that explained everything.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Nope. No joke."

"Embry, shut up," Jacob ordered.

Embry rolled his eyes. "Yes, Master."

"I give up, what is it exactly that you're so insistent on telling me?" She brought the sponge down on the plate, scrubbing it with renewed vigor.

"Just that… well, I wanted to ask you to cut him a break."

"Cut him a break?" Claire repeated flatly. "What do you mean?"

"Well you see," it was Embry who replied, "It's like this. Quil really likes you, and we know you really like Quil."

She felt a blush stain her cheeks. "Get to the point, Embry."

"Right. The point. He can't tell you what it is you want him to tell you."

It took her a few minutes to wrap her mind around the statement. "Why not?" Already, she could feel the increasingly familiar frustration building up inside of her.

Jacob replaced the dish he was holding to its designated home before leaning against the counter, so that he was hovered over the sink and she could see him clearly. "Because he's scared shitless."

"Eloquent," she replied tonelessly, blowing up her bangs in an attempt to free her eyes from their hold. "Why?"

"He says he wants to give you a choice," Embry said, voice uncommonly serious, "but the truth is, he's afraid of what you'll think. He doesn't want to admit it, but Jake and I know he's scared of losing you. He's scared you won't understand."

She thought of her dream. The wolf.

It had seemed so scared. So completely terrified, that it had killed her. And then when it had melded with Quil…

She bit her lip, her thoughts a mess. At last, she gave a resigned sigh. "How can I understand, if he won't tell me?"

"Just give him time," Jacob coaxed.

Claire shook her head. "You don't understand; if he was any other guy, I would have given up on him a long, long time ago. I don't do this kind of a relationship. Either someone is straight with me, or I'm gone."

"Not everything is going to be black and white, Claire. Go easy on the guy."

She was a little surprised that the words were coming from Embry, of all people. "Your life seems to be pretty black and white."

Embry snorted. "Hardly."

"So… I'm just supposed to leave it be?"

Jacob nodded hopefully. "That's what we're asking you to do."

"But… that isn't fair to _me_. I shouldn't have to."

"I agree with you," Jacob said, "but it's just the way things are."

"Well I want things to change! So tell me."

"Damn it, Claire, I can't tell you. Come on, please."

"Just give him a little time," Embry pressed. "Until he stops being such a coward and mans up a little."

The pleading expression on both their faces is what had her shaking her head and letting out a resigned sigh. She couldn't believe that she was really agreeing with them. "Fine. But I hope you all know that I don't have much time."

Embry frowned, walking over to stand beside her and boosting himself easily onto the counter. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my mother is pissed off at me, and I get the feeling that before I know it, she'll have forced me onto a plane and back to New York."

"Do you want to go back?" Jacob's voice was soft, but Claire thought she caught and undercurrent of uncertainty there. He didn't want her to leave, and she got the impression that it wasn't so much because he would miss her, but because that would mean Quil suffering. At least, she thought Quil would suffer.

She hoped he would, because that would mean he really cared.

"No," she said, not a shred of doubt in her voice. "No, I don't. But I may have to."

Jacob opened his mouth to say something, but he never got the chance. A loud howl erupted somewhere close to the house. A howl Claire thought she could feel in her soul.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and as before, she found herself fighting the urge to go running outside.

Jacob and Embry exchanged curious glances, and Embry shrugged. "I guess we should go check it out. In case he really decided…"

Another howl.

"He sounds close."

"Within a few feet close," Embry agreed.

Jacob grunted, making his way across the room before finally pulling up the shade of the window, his eyes scanning the yard.

He let out a bark of laughter, and Claire tilted her head.

"What's so funny?"

He grinned, motioning Embry and her forward.

"It looks like you have a visitor."

She frowned, sliding closer so that she could see what he was seeing. And then she smiled, hardly able to believe what she saw.

Just below the second floor window, sitting on his haunches, was the wolf. _Her_ wolf. It was an odd sight to behold, the large animal sitting, casual as you please, in the backyard of Jacob's house.

Even from the distances, she thought she could detect a faint hint of amusement in his expression. She blinked once, twice, but he was still there.

Her heart feeling suddenly light, she laughed, feeling Jacob and Embry shift beside her.

Embry grinned. "Well? Don't you want to go say hello?"


	13. Chapter 12: Forever

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Twelve: Forever**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight, **_**Quil, or Claire.**

She bounded eagerly out of the kitchen, and toward the front door. Her journey was about half-way complete when she paused, logic kicking in.

"Shouldn't you be a little more weirded out by this?" She questioned, studying Jacob and Embry, both of whom had followed her out. "There's a wolf sitting in your backyard."

Jacob laughed under his breath. "I've seen weirder."

The corner of her mouth quirked. "Do I want to know?"

"According to you? Yes, you do."

Embry's response caught her off guard, and she narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he waved her off.

"Liar."

"Maybe," he grinned, "but don't you want to go say hello?"

It was beyond strange the way everyone seemed so at ease about the wolf's presence. As far as she knew, Sam, Emily, and Billy were still outside, but she hadn't heard any screaming. "Be honest, why aren't you guys at all upset by this? Shouldn't you be telling me not to go greet the crazy beast outside?"

Embry snorted. "He wouldn't hurt you."

"That's another thing – you keep referring to him as a 'he' like he's a person or something."

"You did it to; just now." Jacob pointed out.

She wasn't convinced. "I don't think I believe you, but…" With a resigned sigh, she continued her journey at a slower pace. She _knew_ she wouldn't get any information out of Jacob or Embry or anyone else for that matter.

But it didn't make it any less annoying.

She pulled the door open with trembling hands, the anticipation running through her. Quil had told her once that she had a good chance of seeing the wolf again, but she hadn't really believed him. And now…

Now the wolf was sitting there, waiting for _her._ It made no sense, but she trusted her instinct.

Something tied her to him. Of that, she was absolutely certain.

Why else would she have had _years_ of dreams about him? Up until she'd found herself at La Push, all of her dreams had been centered around finding him. Now that she had, Claire could see that her dreams pointed to something else.

What, she wasn't certain, but she didn't plan on waiting for the truth to fall from the sky. She had agreed to wait for Quil to open up to her about his big secret, but she _hadn't _promised not to find out more about the wolf and her dreams.

Emily smiled softly when she saw her niece emerge from the house, and Claire smiled back, her gaze lingering over her aunt and uncle. She was very nearly jealous, watching them together. They balanced each other perfectly, and the open adoration in Sam's eyes when he looked at his wife was clear as day.

She wanted Quil to look at her like that.

Sam nodded reassuringly, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly. She watched his eyes turn from her across the lawn, to where the wolf still sat, gazing at her silently.

She was suddenly unsure. How did one greet a wolf? She moved forward slowly, holding out her hand in front of her.

The wolf waited patiently, his hazel eyes calm as he took in her approach. She felt as though she were in a dream when she reached him, her hand sliding easily into his fur.

"Hey," she whispered softly, moving still closer, "I didn't think I see you again."

A soft nudge against her arm.

"How've you been?" It might have been a stupid question, but it was what came flooding out of her mouth. She let out a disbelieving laugh. "I still can't believe you're here. Or that you're even real."

She wrapped on arm around him as best she could given his size. "So… what's up?"

There was a small bark of laugher, and she giggled in response.

"That was a stupid question, wasn't it? But really… what are you doing here?"

The wolf pulled his head back so that he faced her, his expression was pointed and she got the feeling that he was thinking of something and trying to make a decision.

"What?"

Hazel eyes scanned her face quizzically and she self consciously reached up to touch her skin, "What do I have something stuck to me?"

Another bark of laugher, and the hazel eyes rolled.

It never ceased to amaze her how _human _his expression was.

Playfully, she pushed him, her small hands disappearing almost entirely in the shelter of his chocolate brown fur.

"Stop laughing at me," she protested, her heart feeling light.

Instead, he bowled her over. She shrieked in surprise as the chocolate brown fur covered her, the wolf knocking her playfully over and then looming over her, paws planted firmly on either side of her.

She giggled as he brushed her face, purposefully tickling her with his fur.

"Stop it!" She cried, trying to roll away, but meeting with resistance. Any normal person would have said she was crazy. A wolf wasn't exactly a household pet, and it certainly wasn't smart to be playing roughly with one. But _she _knew better.

Embry had said it too – the wolf wouldn't hurt her. Even now, she was certain he was being careful. There was no doubt in her mind that he could easily break her in half.

Her hand wrapped around the grass, and she tore it out of the ground, throwing it at his face, and letting out another shriek as the wolf lowered a little more of his weight onto her frame.

"You jerk! Leave me alone!" She giggled madly, throwing all her strength behind her push as she forced him to the side and rolled out from beneath him.

The wolf followed her, even as she ran across the lawn laughing madly, and she pushed her legs to go faster. She reached the water hose within a few seconds, and before she even thought it through, she was turning the knob and pointing it toward her chocolate-colored pursuer.

The wolf let out a strangled sounded howl at the impact, yelping in surprise, and she laughed harder.

"Ha!" She dropped the hose, stuck out her tongue childishly, and took off running again.

The wolf tackled her to the ground within a matter of seconds, and Claire found that despite throwing numerous tufts of grass at him, there was no escaping.

At last, they both collapsed to the floor, her resting her head against him. "Well… that was interesting."

The wetness in his fur made the back of her neck damp, but she couldn't care less. She felt _right_.

"So I decided something," she announced, oddly used to the lack of response. "I'm not going to think so much anymore."

There was a confused whine, and she shrugged.

"It's just… thinking about why I feel the way I feel isn't going to change anything. I'm only going to freak myself out. So… why think?"

The lay in silence for some time, and Claire allowed herself to enjoy the comfort of the wolf's proximity. The sun shone brightly, and she winced turning her head to the side slightly. The grass tickled her arms, but she stayed where she was. She noticed, with some surprise, that the wolf was incredibly warm. As warm as Quil.

Her mind wandered to her absent almost boyfriend, and she wondered just what he was doing. Claire could feel in the insecurity seeping into her the more she thought about him and eventually, she rolled onto her stomach, a smile flickering when she heard the wolf whine in protest. "I'm scared," she announced.

Concern flickered in the depths of his eyes, and she moved closer.

"It's just… I'm freaked out, you know? It's like… I love it here, but I'm afraid sometimes that I'm intruding."

The wolf shook his head vehemently, nuzzling her gently as if to refute the statement.

"In New York… it's just really different. And I don't want to go back. But I'm afraid that after awhile… people aren't going to want me." She buried her head in his fur, embarrassed. "I'm stupid, right? And overly emotional? It's just that, since my parents divorced, I get… well, I get lonely really easily. Sometimes I think my dad didn't want me as much as he wanted Abby.

It's silly really, but I can't help it sometimes. I'm the youngest. I was supposed to get spoiled and adored."

Claire could feel the hurt wash over her. It _was_ silly. She knew her father loved her, and she knew that her sister would do anything for her, and she also knew that in her own way, her mother tried to watch over her, but she missed having a family. A real family. Not one that was spread out all over New York.

"I'm being stupid. Ignore me."

The wolf grunted in protest, nuzzling her again.

"Thanks," she said, absentmindedly running her hand across his fur. In response, she heard a pleasant humming.

"I guess I'm just really sensitive… especially because I keep freaking out about Quil." She groaned, and dropped back against the cool grass.

Another confused whine.

"Well we kind of… well…" Why did she have such a big mouth? How did one explain to a wolf that they were freaking out about a guy? "We kissed. And um… now my entire family knows… and I'm a little worried about what's going to happen."

The hazel eyes flooded with something she couldn't place. The expression was almost hurt, as if she'd somehow insulted him.

"What?" She asked softly, but he shook his head and looked past her. "I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry. It's just that he's pulled away from me so many times… I'm kind of afraid he'll do it again."

The wolf stood abruptly, forcing her to sit back up as he moved around her in a circle. His stance was tense, and anxious, and his soft hazel eyes kept flickering back to her uneasily.

"What?" She questioned again, moving so that she was sitting up. "Are you alright?"

The wolf looked away almost angrily, continuing its pacing. Claire had the impression he wanted to communicate something to her, but he didn't know how to. As abruptly as he'd stood up, he stopped, eyes honing in on her. He shook his head decisively, and walked toward her, nudging her gently, reassuringly. Then he turned, and walked away.

-

Embry slid up to stand beside her within a few moments of the wolf's departure. "You've been sitting there for the past five minutes. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said, snapping out of her thoughts of Quil and the wolf, "where's Jake?"

"Patrol," he responded shortly. "Something happen with the wolf?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," she admitted. "It's like… I got the impression he wanted to tell me something, but he couldn't. I don't know, you probably think I'm crazy, but…"

"No, I don't," Embry assured her before cracking a smile. "At least, I don't think you're crazy because of that."

She scowled up at him. "Jerk."

He smiled responded good naturedly, holding out his hand to help her stand up. "You going to come in?"

She scanned the backyard, realizing with a start that everyone had left. "Where'd Emily and Sam go?"

"Inside. They waited until you were done tearing up the lawn with wolf."

She smiled. "Shut up."

"Make me."

She stuck her tongue out at him, but followed him inside. "Hey Embry…"

"Mm?"

"Why do you date the bimbos?"

He looked surprised by her line of questioning, but quickly masked his expression with one that was just slightly lecherous. "Do you really have to ask?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Creep. I know you think with your downstairs brain, but be serious. Don't you want a girlfriend? A family?"

Embry shrugged one shoulder. "Sure."

She blinked, a little surprised. She'd expected him to deny it, "So then…"

His face was uncharacteristically serious when he looked at her, his eyes suddenly grave, like he wanted to tell her something very important. "Look, Claire, everyone wants someone. And for some of us, it's easier than others. I guess I do date the bimbos, but mostly, it's because I can't see myself scrounging around for my one true love. It will happen when it happens."

"But…"

"I've seen the effects of love. I've seen Sam and Emily, and I've seen what love did to Jacob and Quil—"

"Quil?" She cut in, caught off guard. "What happened to Quil?"

"Nothing, just… I've seen both of them act like fools because they care about some girl. And I've seen them both get seriously hurt in the process." He must have seen the question bursting on her lips, because he shook his head. "No, I'm not going to elaborate."

She pouted. "Jerk."

"Anyways, the point is, the _looking_ for love isn't nearly as important as what you do when you find it."

She was surprised by the wisdom in his statement. Her parents had found love – or at least she thought they had – when they met each other, but they lost it because they didn't take care of it.

She chewed her lip nervously, "Do you think it's possible to fall in love in the span of two weeks?"

He grinned, and Claire knew he was well aware why she'd voiced the question. "I think it's possible to fall in love in one second."

Her response was cut off by Quil opening the front door. She felt her heart beat wildly in anticipation, and she smiled as she took in the sight of him. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of baggy pants and loose t-shirt, and there were bits of grass clinging to his hair.

"Hey," she greeted, biting her lip. She could feel her cheeks flood with heat, and she was well aware of what her most recent topic of conversation was. She wasn't sure whether she should walk over to him or not. What if…

Gah. She was over-analyzing again.

"Hey," he greeted, eyes soft as he studied her. "How are you?"

"Good," she said, her nails digging into the palm of her hand as he approached her.

His stance was easy, and he looked almost completely at ease as he came to stand before her, his hand catching hers and tugging her easily to him as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He dropped a kiss to her lips. It wasn't a short kiss, but it wasn't a long one either.

Claire guessed that was for Embry's sake, but when she looked past Quil's shoulder, she found that he'd already slipped out of the room. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't surprised. She'd expected him to stay and tease her mercilessly. Although, she'd apparently misjudged him when she'd assumed he didn't have much of a serious or mature side.

"Sorry I didn't say bye this morning," he said, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "I had patrol."

She nodded, winding her arms around his neck. "So I was told."

He laughed suddenly, plucking something out of her hair and tossing it the floor. "You've got grass in your hair, and grass stains all over your shirt." He smiled mischievously, "What were you doing exactly?"

She shrugged casually. "Oh, you know, the usual. Just wrestling with a wolf in the backyard."

He arched an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yes," she studied him. "Besides, you aren't one to talk. What did you get in a fight with a bush or something?"

He laughed softly, "Not exactly."

"That was vague." The tips of her fingers brushed his hair, and she allowed herself to slide closer, so that they stood chest to chest, and she could wind her fingers through the strands. He inhaled sharply, and she smiled. It was nice to know that even when he pushed her away, she could still affect him.

His hand came up to brush against her cheek, and he held her a little more securely, leaning back against the counter. She followed the movement, letting her head rest on his chest.

After her conversation with both the wolf, and Embry, she was determined to at least attempt not to think so much anymore. She wanted to enjoy what she was living.

"Hey, Claire?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think it would help if your mom spoke to Emily? Maybe she could convince her to let you go to school on the reservation."

"No," Claire sighed, "she won't. She's really stubborn, and once she decides something… well, there's no making her change her mind." She peaked up at him, "Didn't you think it was a good idea for me to go?"

She felt him shrug. "I do. Kind of. But if it's really not what you want, then I don't want you to get forced. You really want to… stay here?"

Claire pulled away, amazed at how dense he could be sometimes. Was it really that hard to believe that she wanted to be with him? She didn't understand how he could be so uncertain. Didn't he see what an amazing thing he had? How wonderful La Push was?

She pushed up on the very tips of her toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I really want to stay here," she affirmed. "I really want to belong here."

And despite her earlier doubt, she felt like she did belong here. In his arms. With him.

When had he become the center of her world?

Quil smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek, then to her nose, and then at last, her lips. "If it were up to me, you would never leave."

That made her smile. "Really?"

"Really," he assured her. Quil turned them quickly, so that she was the one backed against the counter and trapped in his arms, one of them stretched out on either side of him. He grinned down at her, looking a little smug, and she returned the expression with a sly smile of her own.

His lips plundered hers, and she felt her knees go weak. Claire had never been more grateful to be trapped up against a counter. Somewhere in the back of her mind, around the same time she tilted her head and felt Quil deepen the kiss, she thought that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to start making out in the kitchen.

After all, Embry or Emily or Billy, or even worse, _Sam_, could walk in, and she would never hear the end of it, of that she was certain.

But that train of thought lasted for only a few seconds before her mind shut off completely and she was aware of Quil and _only_ Quil. She was _never_ going to get used to the feel of his lips. It was amazing, and exhilarating, and it made her entire body tingle in anticipation.

She had never been more prepared to throw her mother's precautions about "boundaries" and "waiting" out the window.

She pushed herself as far up on her toes as possible, pressing her mouth harder against his, their lips moving together easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He pulled away all too quickly, and she found herself following his movement with a little whimper. A smile flittered across his face, his breathing erratic. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips again,

"The kitchen probably isn't the best place for this." His face was a mix of disappointed and apologetic.

"You started it," she pointed out.

"You're the one who tempted me into it in the first place," he argued.

"How?" She asked, a smile fighting to spread across her face.

He didn't answer, just leaned forward and kissed her again.

"I could get used to this," he groaned, kissing her nose and then pulling her into a hug, his lips pressing a kiss to the area just below her ear.

"Me too," she agreed.

"I don't want you to ever feel like you don't belong here," he whispered in her ear. "Never. This place will always be your home – for as long as you want it to be."

She fairly trembled when she felt his lips at her neck. "Then I guess," she said, her voice oddly husky, "I'll be here forever."


	14. Chapter 13: New Developments

The Half Life

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Thirteen: New Developments**

**By: L.B.Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight,**_** Quil, or Claire. **

Her heart was pounding as she pulled into Forks High School. Her hands were clammy against the steering wheel of Emily's car, and she felt hot and cold all over as she scanned the parking lot.

She'd never been an early riser, a fact that proved to her disadvantage now, as her arrival came well after that of many other students.

Claire inhaled deeply, pushing her hair out of her face as she reached for her nearly empty backpack and pulled the keys out of the ignition. Pushing the door open with one hand, she slid out of the car, her feet hitting the concrete with a soft thud.

Her eyes scanned her surroundings with unease. The buildings looked nothing like any of the familiar red brick buildings of her old school. These buildings looked like old houses, covered in maroon bricks that looked like they were much too old. The familiar tiled hallways that were jam-packed with much too small lockers were no where to be found as she wandered into the first building, ducking her head in an attempt to hide her face.

Maybe it was paranoia but she could almost feel every else's eyes on her. For once, she missed the familiarity of New York and her friends. She missed Vicki, and Matt, and all the familiar faces. She missed the Starbucks across the street, she even missed her hateful homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis.

If there was one thing she _hadn't_ wanted it was to find herself in the high school of a much-too-small town where everyone else seemed to know everyone else's business and _she _was the odd one out.

In her pocket, she felt her phone start vibrating, and with an annoyed sigh, she yanked it out and flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Claire. Just calling to remind you that this is your first day and you can't be late."

She stifled a groan, attempting, and failing she was sure, to hide her anger. "Morning, Mother. I'm already there."

"Good. Remember our agreement."

"You mean your ultimatum?"

"Claire," Hilary warned.

"Mother," Claire answered back, voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"I meant what I said."

"Just because I'm following orders," Claire gritted out, "doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"I'm trying to protect you, Claire."

"Save it for someone who cares." She replied shortly, allowing the teenager in her to take over and compel her to flip the phone shut and put it on silent mode.

She sent Vicki a quick text message of 'this is hell' before shoving it back in her pocket, plastering an unconvincing smile on her face, and marching toward the front desk.

The woman at the front desk looked up as she approached, and Claire took a long gulp.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm Claire Anderson," she replied, voice timid, "I just transferred."

A short nod, and several minutes of shuffling paper, until the woman handed Claire a pile of computer printed sheets.

"Thank you," Claire said, smiling a little.

God, what she would give to be back at La Push with Emily and Sam right now. Or even better, she could be spending her time with Quil. But she was stuck here, in hell, where she knew absolutely no one.

She scanned her schedule and the school map before heading out of the first building and heading to her first class – advanced literature. Unfortunately for Claire, the class had already begun when she arrived and she stepped inside, ducking her head and wishing she was invisible.

The teacher, a middle-aged man with grayish-black hair and a receding hairline, stood up when he saw her slip through the doorway.

"You must be Claire Anderson."

She nodded, glancing down at her schedule to see what the man's name was. "Yes, I am."

"I'm Mr. Carlson, your advanced literary analysis teacher."

Thank you, Captain Obvious., she thought. She glanced at the seats, spotting an empty one toward the back.

"The class is starting a project I assigned on the tragedies we've read this past month. It's a group project, so I suppose I'll just put you in one of the groups. What exactly have you read as far as tragedies are concerned, Miss Anderson?"

"_Oedipus the King, Hamlet, Macbeth—_"

"She can work with me, Mr. Carlson." A feminine voice piped up. "I was doing my project on _Hamlet_, and I didn't have a partner anyway."

"Miss Darlington," the teacher grinned, looking relieved, "that would be perfect."

The girl had stood up slightly, and was leaning toward them. She'd been sitting in the second row from the front, and she flashed Claire a sympathetic smile as she sunk back down into the seat.

Feeling her heart lift just a little, Claire smiled back, taking the opportunity to study the girl. She was unassuming; her light brown hair falling in was just barely past her shoulders with a few streaks of dirty blond running through it. She wore a pair of shorts, black high tops, and a t-shirt to a band Claire had never even heard of. Her nose was dusted over in freckles, and sloped up gently. Overall, she was pretty, and Claire was forever grateful for her intervention.

"Alright then," Mr. Carlson said, his tone overly pleased, "break up into groups. You have this class period to get started on your project. Natalia, I trust you'll explain the rubric to Claire." He handed Claire a piece of paper with the project requirements on it before making his way back over to his desk.

Natalia Darlington didn't say anything as everyone scrambled to push their desks together, but instead waited until everyone had stopped moving to glance at Claire and motion to the now empty desk beside her.

"Take a seat," she said.

Claire nodded, slipping into the seat and dropping her backpack down at her feet. "So…"

"Oh, no," Natalia said, smiling, "I don't do awkward conversation starters. So you're the girl from La Push, huh?"

Claire started. "What?"

The other girl laughed, "Here in Forks, everyone knows everyone else's business."

"I figured," Claire grumbled.

Another laugh, "Yeah, so, when rumor spread that a girl from La Push was going to be coming _here_, everyone was a little surprised. People from the reservation don't normally venture over here for school. Plus, everyone here is scared of them."

"Scared of them?"

Natalia shrugged, looking bored. "It's the legends really. Sometimes, the guys from La Push venture into Forks to buy some stuff, or to visit someone, and…well…they give off this vibe, I guess. People get freaked out."

"But why," now it was Claire who was laughing at how ridiculous it was. "Quil and the rest of them would never hurt a soul. I mean, sure they're abnormally large, but…"

"I don't know. I've never met them, but whatever. What I'm trying to say is, don't be surprised if people give you a decent amount of space at first."

_Perfect_._ This is like Quil all over again. Space when I don't want any._

"Don't worry about it," Natalia comforted, shuffling through her papers and pulling a copy of _Hamlet _out of her backpack, "as long as you don't turn into Malibu Barbie over night, you can stick with me."

"Thanks. So… you want to start the project?" Claire pretended to scan the assignment, feeling a note form in her stomach. Yes, she loved Shakespeare. Yes, she adored _Hamlet._ But she hadn't read it in a few months and there was no doubt in her mind that she was going to need a copy of the Sparknotes.

"Sure."

They traded ideas for the different sections of the project; quotes, foils, imagery, criticism for the rest of the class period. Again, Claire found herself grateful that Natalia was hardly an empty headed girl, but rather, she seemed to know what she was talking about. As her companion had predicted, Claire noticed that a lot of her other classmates would steal curious glances at her, but not one approached.

"If you want," Natalia said as they walked out of class together, "I can go through and look for key quotes tonight. I mean, obviously the soliloquies are huge, but Carlson is going to have our asses if we just copy and paste them."

Claire glanced up from where she was studying her schedule and map again to glance at the girl, "Oh? Is he a tough grader?"

"I'd say he's pretty fair. I mean, copying and pasting the soliloquies would be pretty dumb. Those are lines _everyone _knows, and it doesn't mean we put any thought into the thing."

"True," Claire nodded.

Natalia nudged her gently, motioning to the map, "Where are you going next?"

"Government," Claire replied. "Joy. If only I didn't hate history and politics."

Natalia grinned. "Believe me, I know what you mean. But hey, at least we'll have each other, and it looks like you have lunch with me to."

"Anything else?"

Natalia scanned her schedule quickly, "No. But you have a class with a friend of mine – Brian. He's pretty cool, and he'll help you if anything."

"Right," Claire said, sighing. "Well, I guess it could be worse."

"Hey, Claire," Natalia piped up suddenly, pulling the door open to the classroom. "If you don't mind me asking… you don't look like you're from the reservation."

"I'm not," Claire admitted. "Well, I am, but not really. I'm from New York, but my mom is from around here, and my aunt is married to Sam Uley. They live on the reservation, and I'm staying with them."

"New York," Natalia echoed, "bit of a change, no?"

Claire nodded, slipping into one of the seats toward the back of the room and slouching down. "You have no idea."

"But you like it?"

"Yes," Claire smiled, thinking about Quil. "It's been pretty amazing."

Natalia grinned, "Should I ask?"

Claire laughed lightly. "There really isn't that much to tell."

"Your face says differently."

Claire was saved from coming up with a decent response when the teacher walked in and the bell rang. She'd never been more grateful for politics.

-

By the time she walked out of Forks High later that day, she was feeling considerably better about herself and her time there. Sure, it wouldn't be as comfortable as her old school, and it wasn't likely she'd find replacements for her friends, but Natalia and Brian had proved to be pretty good company.

It would be bearable.

Natalia walked out of class with her, the two of them trailing along with the crowd that was flooding the parking lot. "So, how do you want to do this project?"

Claire shrugged. "We should probably meet sometime. I know he said he'd give us two more classes, but I don't think it will be enough time to finish everything."

"Me either," Natalia agreed, "so your place or mine?"

Recalling her earlier comments about La Push and how everyone was scared of them, Claire grinned, "Mine. Unless you're too afraid, that is."

Natalia rose to the challenge as Claire had been nearly certain she would. "No way. When?"

"Thursday? You can follow me back after school."

"Sure," Natalia agreed, halting as she came to stand beside her car. "See you tomorrow?"

Claire gave a short nod. "Yeah."

She waved good bye once more before making her way over to Emily's car, whipping out her cell phone and speed dialing Vicki.

She hadn't had a decent conversation with her friend in days, and she missed her sorely. When Vicki picked up on the first ring,

"How was it?"

Claire wasn't even surprised that she didn't get a hello. "Surprisingly alright."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I met this girl Natalia. She was pretty cool. I think I might get through this."

"Well, tell her if she tries to replace me, I'll fly over and claw her eyes out." Vicki joked, "So… as interested as I am in your small town high school day, I have to ask. Whatever happened with Quil?"

Claire bit her lips, feeling a wide smile spread across her face. She hadn't wanted to spill the beans about Quil until she was by herself and sure that her aunt and uncle wouldn't overhear.

"God, I can practically feel the idiotic smile on your face."

"Shut up," Claire said, though her tone was tinted with a happiness.

"No. Now tell me."

"I don't know where to start."

"From the beginning, idiot."

Claire sighed, smiling. Typical Vicki. "What was the last thing I told you?"

"That you both had made some kind of peace and that you had some weird dream where he gave you a rose."

"It wasn't a dream," she said automatically.

Vicki sputtered on the other line. "What?!"

The stupid smile spread even wider – if that were even possible. "It wasn't a dream," Claire repeated, balancing the phone between her chin and her shoulder as she unlocked the car and slid inside.

She could hear Vicki let out a long breath from between her teeth. "Well, that I was not expecting. You dreams are always so vivid; I didn't really have a hard time believing you'd dreamt about him."

"I know."

"So, what else?"

She put the car in drive and the phone on speaker as she let it drop off her shoulder and into her lap. "He kissed me."

"AND YOU DIDN'T CALL ME?! What the hell are you _on_? You text messaged me to tell me about the school crap, but you didn't tell me that you made out with Quil?!"

"I didn't—" she cut herself off, feeling a blush suffuse her cheeks. She _had_ made out with Quil.

"You! You! You!" Vicki was sputtering. "I can't believe you! When? Where? How? Details, girl, details!"

Claire laughed lightly. "Well, once when he was running off to chase who-knows-what in the woods with Jake and the rest. Then again after we fought. And…well, a couple times since."

"I'm not even going to ask about the chasing-who-knows-what bit. So are you dating?"

"I think?" She hated that slight question in her voice.

"You think," Vicki repeated flatly. "How can you not be sure if you're dating someone or not?"

"Well he hasn't exactly said the words 'will you go out with me' yet."

"And you've let him kiss you senseless?" Vicki sounded mildly surprised. "That sounds more like your sister."

Normally, she would have jumped to Abby's defense, even though she knew it was true, but this time, she paused. "I know, but… There's just something about Quil that pulls me to him. It's crazy. Almost like…" She trailed off before completing her sentence with the word 'fate.' It all just sounded too stupid, too impossible. Who believed in fate when the divorce rate was at fifty percent?

Vicki must have heard the uncertainty in her voice, because her own tone turned soothing. "You'll be fine, Claire. It's good to just… not think sometimes."

"I guess." She wasn't convinced.

"Anything else you want to tell me about?" Vicki's voice had regained its customary edge.

"Maybe," Claire admitted.

"Oh, god. What else?"

"I saw the wolf."

"Um, what?"

"I saw the wolf," Claire repeated. "Twice, now, I've seen him. And I don't mean in my dreams – with other people around, I've seen him. I've touched him. He saved my life."

Silence was the only response she received.

"Vicki?" She said tentatively. She dropped her head against the back of the seat, gripping the steering wheel with one hand and running the other through her hair nervously. Perhaps, she had pushed too far. Just because everyone on La Push could accept it, didn't mean…

"Are you joking?"

"No."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

"Claire, that's…"

"Insane?"

"Wait a second, Claire," she could hear Vicki shifting from over the phone line.

"What?"

"You started having these dreams after you left La Push, didn't you?"

The observation seemed so obvious, and yet, Claire hadn't even made the connection until her friend had spoken the words. It was true. She had started dreaming of wolf just after she left La Push, if her parent's memories were correct. "Yes…"

"Do you think… do you think that maybe…"

She wanted to band her head against the steering wheel. Repeatedly. "God, I don't know, Vick. I hadn't even though about it, honestly. Besides, it's been fifteen years, I don't think…"

"Claire, in your life, weirder things have happened."

"Maybe." She felt a sudden rush of emotion. It was as if some piece of that insane puzzle laid out in front of her had finally found its place on the table. She pursed her lips tightly together, thinking.

The wolf. Quil. La Push. The dreams.

All of it, somehow, was interrelated. She was sure of that now. And even though she had promised to keep from pushing, she wanted to – desperately, she wanted to.

She needed to know the truth.

The ride to La Push wasn't terribly long, and she managed to make small talk with Vicki until she pulled into the dirt-covered drive way, despite the fact that her mind was still whirling around Vicki's observation. She frowned, sighting an unfamiliar car parked where Emily normally parked hers. The license plate clued her into the fact that it was a rental, and she frowned deeper.

"Weird…" she mumbled.

"What?" Vicki asked.

"Nothing."

"Anyways, I was saying, your old boyfriend Matt's been absent for the last couple of days. They gave some crap story about him having mono or something."

"Mm," Claire replied, not really listening as she unlocked the front door and stepped into the house.

"Why are you here?"

It was Quil's voice that spoke and it sounded tight with barely restrained anger and frustration. She frowned.

"Vick, I'm going to have to call you back."

Vicki started complaining. Something about Claire being a horrible best friend and abandoning her, but Claire ignored her, snapped her phone shut, now genuinely intrigued.

She rounded the corner, heading in the direction of Quil's voice.

Claire froze, the breath rushing out of her as she saw just who was seated at the table. Embry, Jacob, Sam, and most importantly, _Quil_, all standing around.

Suddenly, the room felt much too small and much too hot.

He looked up, smiling at her as though they'd never fought, as though nothing had changed since they'd last seen each other. "Hey, Claire."

She suddenly felt ill. "_Matt?_"

**A/N: Ugh. I don't think I liked this chapter. Oh well – you guys decide. I apologize for not replying to you reviews this time around, but this week has been INSANE for me! My brother and sister flew in from another country, and I have a parade/performance this week that I've had practice for every day. Also, a friend of mine is moving into college this week, and another friend is flying in for a visit. So yes, it's been crazy. So I humbly ask your forgiveness for my lateness/lack of reply. Thank you all for being so amazing!**

**As a side note… what did you all think of **_**Breaking Dawn**_**? I thought it was… interesting… to say the least.**


	15. Chapter 14: Past and Future

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Fourteen: Past and Future**

**By: L.5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight,**_** Quil, or Claire. **

Shocked was an understatement.

There weren't words to describe the million and one emotions running through her as she took in the sight of Matt sitting at Emily's kitchen table.

_I'm hallucinating_, she thought to herself. _I've got to be hallucinating. _She pinched herself in the arm, and blinked a few times, but Matt was still sitting there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Hey, Claire."

His voice shocked her even more than his presence, mainly because she hadn't expected to hear it ever, ever again. She inhaled sharply, still trying to reconcile the image of her ex-boyfriend with La Push. "Matt…? What are you doing here?"

It was almost laughable, she noted, the contrast between Matt and the other men in the room. With the exception of Sam – who Claire was certain Emily had dressed that morning – all the La Push boys had clearly rolled out of bed and grabbed the first clothes they'd come across. Matt was dressed in an ironed button down, a pair of dark blue jeans, and brilliantly white sneakers. Never had the distinctions between her two lives been more apparent.

"I needed to speak to you."

Claire ran a hand across her face, laughing in disbelief at Matt's answer. "You couldn't have just called?" She thought that maybe she should be angry, but the only emotion she could come up with was surprise.

"Would you have picked up?" Matt challenged.

No. No, she wouldn't have.

"We need to talk, Claire." He must have seen the flare of annoyance that flickered across her face at the order, because he immediately tacked on, "Please."

Claire bit her lip, but nodded nonetheless. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner she could move on without remorse. Sam, Jacob, Quil, and Embry were still hovering nearby, so she held up a single finger in Matt's direction, silently asking him to wait a moment, before walking over to them.

Quil looked coiled to strike, and she knew that given the unpredictability of their relationship, he had to be feeling at least a little freaked out. God knew _she _would be yanking out her hair and panicking. With the dopey smile she reserved only for him, Claire reached out and wound their fingers together.

"Hey," she whispered.

The tension in his shoulders relaxed just slightly. "Hey. How are you?"

"A little shell shocked," she said, "but alright."

"Do you want him to leave?" The words were carefully detached, like he didn't want to seem overeager in his quest to rid the room of Matt.

"Yes," she admitted, "but I need to deal with this."

"Deal with it how?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes in Matt's direction.

Claire glanced over her shoulder at her ex-boyfriend to find him cowering in his chair. "Not through the use of bodily harm."

"Damn," Embry whispered, and if Claire wasn't mistaken, there was a note of disappointment in his voice.

She laughed lightly. Typical.

Jacob alone seemed to be understanding. He put a hand on Sam and Embry's shoulders, turning them in the direction of the door. "If you need us—"

"I know," she broke in, smiling gratefully. "Thank you."

"You sure about this?" Quil asked in a whisper, not bothering to follow Sam and the rest out the door.

Yes, Claire noted, he was definitely freaking out. It was adorable, she decided. "Positive. I'll catch up with you later?"

His hazel eyes darkened, and he glared at Matt over her head. "I don't like this."

"You just don't want to leave me alone with the ex. What? You don't trust me?"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Oh, I trust you just fine. But the fact that this guy flew all the way here to see you makes me think his intentions are hardly honorable."

"And your intentions are honorable?"

He grinned, but didn't reply.

Claire laughed, letting go of his hand and pushing him in the direction of the door. Or at least, she attempted to push him. He didn't budge. "Oh, come on. That's not fair."

"Alright," he nodded, "I'll see you later."

She smiled grandly. "Thank you."

He nodded again. And then…

In a move that surprised her, one hand caught her waist and the other wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her flush against him. His lips were hot against hers, and she let out a noise of surprise.

Damn, he could kiss.

She knew enough about males and pissing contests that she could see that Quil's kiss was his way of marking her as his, but she wasn't about to complain. If she'd been thinking a little more clearly, she might have been offended. She might have protested that she was Claire Anderson, and she didn't belong to anyone. But it was Quil kissing her, and she really could care less why he was kissing her, so long as he kept on doing so.

She was just moving her hands up his chest when he pulled away. "I'll see you later," he said. His hazel eyes went over her head, to Matt, and then he turned and left.

She was practically gasping for breath, and she knew her face was flushed as she turned back to Matt. "Right… uh… I…"

Her ex blinked at her in surprise. "I was right?"

Her mind was having trouble catching up with the events at hand, but she forced herself to process the three words that had come out of Matt's mouth. Right? Right about what?

"Oh," she started in realization. "Oh, no, I—"

"You…"

"No! No, I didn't! Quil and I came after. When you broke up with me, we weren't even talking." She ran her hands through her hair, finding it tangled. _Thanks for that, Quil._

"Quil?"

She motioned to the door, nodding in confirmation. "Quil."

"I thought his name was Emery."

"Emery?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Oh, _Embry._ No, definitely not. Embry's like my brother – us together would practically be incest."

Matt nodded, "Right. Well…" he let out a humorless laugh, "this is awkward."

She laughed with him, "Very." Claire was getting tired of standing, so she took the seat across from Matt. "So, what's up?"

"You mean, why I am here?"

"Well, yeah, that too. How did you even get this address?"

She almost felt bad, he looked so uncomfortable sitting at the table. "…I spoke to your mom."

And just like that, her pity went right out the window. "I think I just misheard you. You spoke to who now?"

"I'd been trying to get Vicki to talk to me for weeks, but she hates me even more now than she did before, so that was pretty much impossible. Then, when I was picking some stuff up at the grocery store for my mother, I saw your mom."

"So you went up to her and asked her instead?! What the hell, Matt?!"

"Actually, she came up to me. I kind of figured she wouldn't give it to me either, given that our break up wasn't the greatest, but…"

The revelation had Claire floored. "My mother gave you this address on her own initiative?"

"Well, she wanted to know what happened. It was totally bizarre, actually, she started asking me about our break up, and if I… well, if I was still interested. When I told her yes…"

"Oh my god, I can't believe this!" She had the sudden urge to pick up the nearest heavy object (in this case the microwave) and throw it at Matt's head. "What made either of you think you had a right to interfere in my life?" Claire closed her eyes tightly, trying to get a handle on her emotions. Matt was leaning away from her, as though he expected her to slap him at any given second. "Look," she said at last, "I'm sorry you wasted money on a plane ticket, but I think it's best if you go. I don't know what my mother told you, but I'm pretty sure most of it isn't even true."

She got up to leave, but Matt caught her around the wrist. "Claire, wait."

She scowled at him. "What now?'

"I just… your mom didn't say much, just that she wished you hadn't come. She was just worried about you, Claire, and I can't say I blame her."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Claire snarled, yanking her wrist out of his grasp when it became apparent that he wasn't going to let go of her.

He threw up his hands in mock surrender, "Calm down. I just meant… well, come on, Claire, the people here… they're kind of weird. And they give of the strangest vibes. This place is like something out of a bad horror flick… it's totally strange. Before I got here I heard _wolves_, Claire, _wolves_ howling. Isn't that only supposed to happen at night or something?"

"You ignorant bastard," she snarled, "if you find it so strange and creepy, why don't you leave?!" She slammed her palms on the countertop to emphasize her point. "I don't want you here anyway!"

She was in the process of escaping when he grabbed her from behind again, this time tightening his grip to the point that it was painful. "C'mon, Claire, you can't have not noticed it." She snarled, so he backtracked, "I thought we were going to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore." She replied, attempting to pull herself from his grasp.

"I didn't fly over here just so you could ignore me."

"Do I look like I care?" She snapped, "Because I don't. Damn it, _let go!_"

"Claire, you're—"

"She said let go," a voice growled from the doorway.

She was only half surprised to see Quil in the doorway, looking as though he wanted nothing more than tear Matt's limbs from his body.

Matt released her quickly, taking a slow step backward as he studied Quil with uneasy eyes. "I only wanted to talk to her," he said.

"I think she's made it clear that she doesn't want to continue the conversation," the words were said casually enough, but the threat behind them was easy to see.

Claire sought out Quil's gaze, trying to silently communicate to him that she was fine and that he should calm down. After all, though the idea of Quil tearing Matt to shreds did have its appeal, she was relatively sure she would be upset about it later.

"Look, Matt," she began, shifting farther back from her ex and trying to subtly move toward Quil's side, "I don't know why you're here, but honestly, I don't really care at the moment. You've insulted the people I care about, and you've made it clear that you aren't comfortable here – so why don't you just leave? You aren't my boyfriend anymore – we aren't even _friends_ anymore."

"You've changed, Claire," Matt informed her, "the old you wouldn't have cut me off like this."

"Maybe," she shrugged, unconcerned.

"You'd really pick these people over your family? Over your friends? Your mom told me you haven't even spoken to her—"

"What happens between me and my mother isn't any of your business," Claire snapped. "She can't control my life, and neither can you. My decisions are my decisions. If I want to cut you out of my life, I'm in my rights to do so, and if I decide to leave New York, that's my decision too."

"Leave New York?!" Matt gasped, "Are you saying you're going to be staying here _permanently_?!"

Claire shrugged one shoulder. "I've thought about it."

The disbelief was evident in Matt's eyes, "You're joking."

"No," she had finally reached Quil's side, so she slipped her hand into his. "I'm not. This is my life now – I can't picture going back." It was the truth. The more time she spent in La Push, the less important her life in New York seemed. Oh, she would miss Vicki and her mother and the rest of her friends, but New York just hadn't been the right fit for her. Her time at La Push had made her feel _alive_ – had made her feel _whole_. It was something she couldn't explain, but also something she couldn't ignore.

"What the hell?" Matt was sputtering now, "You… Claire, what are you talking about? Your life is in New York. Your mom said you were coming home soon. You belong with her, with your friends, this place… it just… it isn't right."

"Not right," she repeated, "what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Matt's eyes flickered warily to Quil, but he continued speaking, his outrage at the idea of her staying in Washington apparently overtaking his sense of self-preservation. "Well, come on, Claire, be serious. You've lived in New York your entire life. I've been friends with you long enough to know you, Claire. What happened to getting an apartment with Vicki in the city? What happened to you going to NYU? You _love _the city. You love the way no one ever sleeps, you love going to all those damn little obscure places that no one cares about. You love riding some creepy ass bus and listening to all the different accents and seeing all the different cultures. You really think you're going to be able to trade all of that for… for this? For trees? For wolves? For living on some reservation in the middle of nowhere?"

Beside her, Quil somehow managed to both tense and flinch at the same time. She turned just slightly, raising on brow in question, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

Matt's points had been valid enough, but they didn't matter. They were the facts at face value. They didn't take into account everything else La Push had to offer – all the things Matt _didn't _realize. Quil was here, the wolf was here, Sam and Emily and Jacob and Embry and hell, even Billy, were all here. The people that mattered, the people that made up her _family. _Her mother and her had practically been strangers living under the same roof.

Hilary had never been good at showing affection, and Claire hadn't ever had a grandmother or an aunt close by to watch out and protect her. Hilary didn't hover the way Emily did, didn't worry the way Sam did when she was with Quil. Abby and her father were practically never around…

"You're not going to understand this," she replied at last, "but none of that matters anymore."

"Come on, Claire," Matt said, voice pleading. "Don't do this."

"I'm sorry you wasted your money," she said, voice firm. "Goodbye."

Matt's gaze hardened, and he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at her. Quil must have noticed, because he took a subtle step forward so that Claire was half shielded behind him.

She rolled her eyes. Stupid overprotective males.

"Whatever," he ex said at last, shaking his head in something akin to disgust. He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Well, that was interesting."

Quil didn't answer for some time, instead leaning against the counter and allowing the silence to settle around them like a blanket. She could see his mind working behind his hazel eyes, and she bit her lip,

"What?" When he didn't answer, she grew fidgety. "We're not playing this game again, are we? Say something, Quil."

He didn't say anything, instead slipping his hand out of hers and settling it around her waist. His other hand settled on the other side, tugging her closer. His hands played with the bottom of her shirt, and she shivered, feeling the tips of her fingers brush against the skin of her back.

"Did you mean that?"

It took her a few minutes to process the words and pull out of the pleasurable haze his touch had caused, "Did I mean what?"

"You said that La Push was your life now. Did you mean it? Or were you just trying to get rid of him?"

There'd been a flicker of uncertainty in his voice, but her reply was firm and unwavering. "Yes. I meant every word."

"But… you'd give up everything…"

She wound her arms around his neck, peering up at him from beneath her eyelashes. His insecurity was fascinating. It was like he hadn't realized that he'd become the center of her universe. She dropped her head onto his chest, a little embarrassed by the thought.

How had it come to this? She could practically hear all the feminists of the world crying out in outrage. A man had become the center of her world. And she didn't even give a damn.

"Everything Matt said was true," she said, "but it's such a small price to pay for all this, that I don't even care. Besides, it's not like I won't ever see Vicki or my mom again. The peace I get here… it's unreal. It's like everything in my life just falls into place. I've never felt more safe."

"Claire, you're only seventeen. How can you be sure—"

"Don't even start that shit with me again," she snapped, head snapping up as she slapped his shoulder lightly. She could practically hear the oncoming tirade, "You told me La Push would be my home for as long as I wanted it to be. Did _you _mean it?"

He had the decency to look ashamed. "Yes, I meant it. But what about your mom? What about your agreement with her?"

"It isn't going to be easy," she said, "I know that already. But I'm turning eighteen soon…"

"Your mother isn't going to just let you leave, Claire."

"I know that, but once I'm a legal adult…"

"Is that really the way you want to leave things with your mother? You storming out the house and her pissed as hell?"

Claire groaned, resisting the urge to stamp her feet childishly. "Stop trying to push me away! If you don't want me, tell me you don't want me. But if you _do _want me, then…"

He kissed her quickly, one hand leaving her hip to trace the side of her face. "I do want you, Claire. I just don't want you to make any decisions you're going to regret later on. You still don't know a lot of things about La Push…"

"I know that," she said. "Believe me, I know. But this place is _home_. Sure, I occasionally miss New York, but every time I weigh the pros and cons… somehow, La Push always wins, even if no one tells me what is going on half the time. I don't know why, so don't ask me. I just know that everything here feels _right_."

Quil nodded slowly. "Okay," he said. His hazel eyes focused on her, tracing the contours of her face.

She glanced away, feeling self-conscious. "What?"

"I'm a lucky bastard," he muttered, and then his lips were on hers.

Apparently, he wanted to make a habit out of making out in the kitchen. Not that she had a problem with that. He'd been leaning on the counter, but now he moved forward, deepening the kiss. She stumbled back a few steps in surprise, her arms, which were still linked around his neck, pulling him along after her. His hand settled back on her waist, but then slipped beneath the fabric of her shirt to trace her spine.

She inhaled sharply. The warmth of his palm seemed to radiate from the small of her back throughout her entire body.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. She suddenly understood all the swoony girls in the locker room who she had previously hated.

Something sharp hit her back, just below where Quil's hand was, and she grunted in discomfort. Next thing she knew, she was being lifted into the air. It took a few seconds to realized she'd run into the table and that now she was sitting on it.

All in all, it worked out well, since now she could link her ankles behind his back, thus ensuring that he wouldn't be able to pull away before she was prepared to let him go.

"Damn it, Quil!"

The roaring voice sounded completely foreign as it echoed throughout the kitchen, and when Quil pulled away at the sound of it, she wanted to yell at its owner. Forget her "conniving meanie" insult, this person was going to get it. But just as she opened her mouth to yell, she realized just who the voice belonged to.

"Sam," Quil sounded as horrified as she felt. His hand quickly left its place beneath her shirt.

Okay.

This wasn't embarrassing. It wasn't as though her uncle had just found her making out with one of his coworkers and friends. Nope. Not awkward at all.

Aw, hell.

This was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to her. Ever. Behind Sam, Embry was laughing. She picked up the decorative salt shaker Emily had on the table and threw it at him.

Sam caught it before it could even go over his shoulders.

"Er, nice reflexes?" Claire said as Sam's killer gaze went from Quil to her.

"In _my kitchen_?" Sam sounded completely disgusted. "My _kitchen_? I _eat_ here. That… its… my _table._" Her uncle waved one hand indignantly toward her, and she realized she was still seated atop the kitchen table.

"Or at least," Embry piped up, "he used too."

"Shut _up_, Embry."

Sam made a strangled noise.

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean—"

"To stick your tongue down Claire's throat?" Embry supplied, ever so helpfully.

Claire almost shouted "there was no tongue" but managed to keep her mouth shut.

Quil ignored his friend. "It just kind of… I just…"

Sam held up one hand, stopping the explanation. "I get it. I do. It's just… Not something I…"

"Ever want to see again?"

"Shut up, Embry." Apparently, Embry actually listened to Sam, because his mouth closed immediately.

"I understand. It won't happen again."

Ha. Not likely. Even with her uncle in the room, it was ridiculously hard to keep from mauling Quil.

Embry leaned against the counter, grinning. "You would've found out anyway, Sam."

Claire wasn't exactly sure what Embry meant by that, since she was pretty certain Quil wouldn't enjoy having a talk with her uncle about the physical aspect of their relationship, but Sam seemed to understand because there was a flicker of awful realization in his features before he buried his head in his hands.

"Damn it all to hell," he muttered, "I'm screwed."

**A/N: See? I told you all I wasn't dead. Two reasons that this was so late: college, and I rewrote this chapter about a million times because I wasn't happy with it – in fact, I'm still not happy with it, but I figured if I waited any longer you'd all kill me. So in any case, I hope I didn't disappoint. This is NOT the last we'll see of Matt. I promise. *ducks and runs for cover* **

**As you may have guessed, the real drama starts soon. I'm out on break now, so hopefully I'll update at least twice during the next month!**


	16. Chapter 15: Crazy

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Fifteen: Crazy**

**By: L.5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Hamlet, Twilight**_**, Quil, or Claire. Natalia, Vicki and Matt are mine.**

"Hamlet should die."

"He did."

"Well, he should die again. He should die many, many times. Slow, painful, excruciating deaths. Many of them."

"The lady doth protest too much," Natalia quipped, rolling onto her stomach so that she peered down at Claire who was stretched out on the carpeted floor of her bedroom, "methinks."

Claire snarled at her, flopping onto her back, the carpet irritating her bare arms, "Get thee to a nunnery."

"Pft," Natalia scoffed, "I'm not Catholic."

And they both promptly burst out into hysterical and stress-induced laughter. "Why," Claire wheezed out in between giggles, "are…we…laughing?"

"I…" Natalia wheezed back, "don't know…wasn't…funny."

They rolled around for a few minutes, shoulders shaking from their laughter. Claire could feel an ache set in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Clearly, they inhaled just a little too much _Hamlet._

Natalia was the first to recover, wiping the corner of her eyes, "God, I'm crying because I'm laughing so hard."

Claire – whose shoulders were still shaking with mirth – could only nod in response.

Natalia giggled, reaching out to hit Claire lightly on the top of her head. "Get a hold of yourself. I think," she shuffled through the papers she had spread out around her on Claire's bed, "that we're pretty much done."

Claire inhaled deeply, trying to rid herself of the last of her giggles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Natalia said, "you finished with the motifs?"

"Motifs and themes, check," Claire responded, holding up two sheets of paper, both of them covered in her practically illegible handwriting.

"Wonderful," Natalia responded, "and I've got the quotes. And we've got all the other information for the essay part right…" she shuffled through the papers once more before producing one with a grand flourish, "here!"

The word _spying_ was etched across the top in huge block letters, and Claire groaned, feeling her brain cramp set in once more. Spending hours pouring over _Hamlet_ had successfully destroyed her love for the play. She and Natalia had analyzed and read until the words had all run together on the page. She'd looked for themes and motifs, while Natalia had carefully selected a few passages that demonstrated the importance of spying in the play.

They hadn't left Claire's bedroom in four hours.

"So we're done?"

Natalia nodded, "Yeah. Well, at least with the research part of it. But we have plenty of time to put it all together after."

"True," Claire agreed, "this was the hard part."

"Claire?"

Claire and Natalia both turned at the sound of the voice. "Sam?" Claire responded, surprised that he was looking for her. She was about to get to her feet, but then realized that getting up meant stepping on the project. "In here!"

Sam's familiar face poked ever so tentatively through her doorway, and Claire almost giggled at seeing him so ill at ease. "Um, hi."

"Hi," she returned. His brown eyes flickered in Natalia's direction so she quickly made an introduction, "Natalia Darlington, a friend from school. We're working on a project."

Sam nodded. "Right, Emily told me something about that. Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about something."

And just like that, Claire knew her face had gone beat red. Oh, god. He wasn't going to give her the talk was he? She hadn't thought…. Of all people! "If this is about what happened with Quil," she managed to squeak out.

"No!" He shouted, startling both herself and Natalia, who was now staring at Claire with one eyebrow raised. "God, no. I don't want to talk about that."

She heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Oh. Alright. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Um, I ran into Jacob earlier. The rest of the pa-I mean, gang is going to be at his house later, he wanted me to pass on the invitation," again, Sam's eyes flickered to Natalia, "you're welcome to come as well."

His gruff voice seemed to have rattled Claire's normally confident friend, but she still nodded, "Thanks."

Sam glanced at the clock, "Actually, you guys should probably start heading over if you plan on going. They're going to be grilling food, so don't worry about dinner."

Claire nodded. "Thanks, Sam."

He didn't reply, instead slipping out of the room without so much as a goodbye. Natalia turned to look at her, wide-eyed, "Your uncle is _huge_!"

Claire laughed. "Yeah, that's one way to describe him."

"Holy. Shit. I don't even think I reach his shoulder!"

Claire shrugged, "You get used to it after awhile."

"Are they all that huge?"

"Pretty much?" Claire winced, hastily adding, "They're really sweet though, I swear."

"Holy _shit_," Natalia said again, as if for good measure, "no wonder people take the legends so seriously!"

Claire frowned slightly, brow furrowing, "Yeah, about that, what legends are you talking about?"

Natalia stopped gapping, instead looking at her with genuine surprise, "You don't know the legends?"

"Not at all."

"But… you live here."

"I know," Claire said with a dramatic sigh, flinging her arm out to the side and gesticulating wildly in an attempt to convey her frustration, "but no one tells me anything."

"Well," the brunette sat a little straighter, tilting one head to the side as though trying to remember something, "I don't know them really well, but I can tell you what I remember."

Claire nodded enthusiastically.

Natalia seemed to remember something, and paused. "Did you want to go to your friend's thing?"

Oh, right. Quil was going to be there, which of course meant she wanted to go, but she wasn't going to drag Natalia along if the other girl wasn't willing. "You pick," she said, hoping that her expression didn't scream, 'I'll cry if I can't go!'

Natalia began to gather the papers surrounding her, putting them into one large stack, "Let's go."

Claire blinked, surprised. "Really?"

"Of course," Natalia grinned back, "I wouldn't want you to think I was too scared."

Claire felt herself smile, "You kick ass, you know that?"

"Of course," Natalia said again, "let's clean this crap up and head out. I'll tell you about the legends in the car."

A few minutes later, Claire found herself in the passenger's seat of Natalia's Mitsubishi, which was, apparently, a hand-me-down from her sister. "So the legends," she piped up, playing with the radio in an attempt to not seem extremely over-eager. Which, of course, she was.

"Right, um, supposedly, the guys around here are shape-shifters or something."

Claire blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah, I know, it's ridiculous. It's basically a dumb horror movie gone bad, the things people say. Mainly it's just stupid gossip, but apparently, La Push has some sort of legend about its heritage, and that legend says that the guys around here have the ability to change form. You know, like become a hawk, or a bear, or something," Natalia waved one hand around dramatically, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. "I never really took anything I heard seriously, but after seeing your uncle, I can understand why people would feel intimidated. No offense," she added quickly.

Claire felt her hear freeze, "Change form… into anything? Into a wolf?"

_Quil, and the wolf. Two figures, molding into one. _

Oh, god, her dream. Had her dreams been trying to tell her something?

"Sure," Natalia said, "any animal. But I like I said, it's a bunch of bizarre crap – completely bogus. I mean really, how can you expect anyone to believe that someone can just shift into some random creature on command?"

"Crazy," Claire murmured, knowing it was the proper response. _Crazy_, her mind screamed, and yet, there was a part of her that thought… that thought that maybe…

"_You're life seems to be pretty black and white_," she could hear her own voice in her head.

She could see Embry scoffing in response, _"Hardly."_

She could see Jacob, leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes soft and sympathetic, despite the harshness of his words, "_Because he's scared shitless."_

Oh, god. She was crazy. She had to be crazy. They weren't shape-shifters. Quil didn't magically turn himself into a wolf.

He didn't, she insisted to herself, he couldn't. Imposible. No, no, no, no, no.

"Claire?"

Natalia's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Wha… What?" She asked, blinking a few times to dispel the panic that had set in.

"Your phone," the other girl motioned to her pocket, "it's been beeping for the past few minutes."

With trembling fingers, she reached for her phone, flipping it open. **3 new text messages**. The screen read. Acting purely out of instinct, she hit the 'view' button and scrolled through. She was only mildly surprised when she saw who the sender was.

Matt.

The first text message was a quick apology, the second, an address that he would apparently be at for the next week, and the third held two simple words: _please come._

She flipped the phone closed, eyes squeezed shut. She didn't have time to deal with Matt. She was too busy trying to convince herself that she was completely insane.

"Claire?" Natalia was speaking again, and she forced herself to smile (though she was sure it came out as more of a grimace) as she turned to look at her companion, "are you alright? You look a little pale."

"Fine," Claire said, but she didn't think she convinced either of them. "Take a left here, Jacob's house is the first one."

Natalia nodded, following her directions.

It was late in the afternoon, and already the sky was darkening. Jacob had lit the light looming over the outside porch, and there was a small lantern resting on the fence, which he was, apparently, still repairing.

Claire unlatched her seatbelt, shoving the door open, "Jacob," she said, motioning with her hand to Natalia, who nodded. She needed to _see _them, to _touch _them, to convince herself that their flesh didn't melt away to fur on weekends and weeknights.

Beside Jacob, Quil was lounging against the repaired part of the fence. Kim and Jared also stood by, watching. They all laughed suddenly, smiles brightening their faces.

_No_, Claire thought, resolutely, _it isn't true. They're too… normal. Crazy._

"You're losing it, Anderson," she scolded beneath her breath.

Claire felt some of the color return to her cheeks.

Quil grinned when he saw her, his hazel eyes catching hers as she and Natalia made their way over. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

As always, she felt her knees weaken in response to his smile. Though this time, it was accompanied by a flicker of hesitation.

"…_I want to get to know you!"_

"_No, you don't."_

The memory made her gnaw on her lip uneasily, but she still managed a smile as she came to a stop in front of him, the fence resting against her hip. "I never turn down free food."

His grin widened, and his head dipped down, lips meeting hers with increasing familiarity. Furry shape-shifter or not, he kissed like heaven, so she wound her arms around his neck without protest. The fence provided an uncomfortable barrier between them, and she felt herself being lifted into the air easily. Her legs wrapped around her waist as he picked her up, successfully bringing her from one side of the fence to the other.

It wasn't a long kiss, since he pulled away quickly, but it still left her slightly breathless and weak in the knees. It was lucky, she thought, that he was holding her up. Behind her, Natalia was grinning widely, and beside her, Jared and Kim were both looking entirely too smug. Jacob was looking awkwardly down at the grass.

Quil didn't seem inclined to put her down, and she certainly wasn't going to protest. It was comforting to be so close to him. It was easier to convince herself of the absurdity of her theory when he felt so warm against her skin; when she was experiencing the very real sensation of his lips against hers.

How could he be anything _other _than human?

She suddenly wanted to laugh, thinking of his reaction if she'd asked him about her theory. That _definitely _wouldn't have been awkward.

She could almost picture it. _"So, Quil, I was wondering. When you're not with me, do you transform into a fuzzy wolf twice my size?"_

Oh yes, _that_ would certainly go over well.

She laughed lightly, and Quil glanced down at her, "What's so funny?"

They really _were _huge, she mused silently. Even when Quil was holding her, he _still _had to look down at her. "Nothing," she responded.

His hazel eyes narrowed at her, and she knew he didn't believe her. "Claire—"

"It's nothing," she insisted. _Crazy._

Jacob, she noticed, was now in the process of helping Natalia over the fence. "Jacob Black," he introduced himself.

"Natalia Darlington," Natalia said with a smile.

Jacob pointed to their other companions, "Kim and Jared."

Kim smiled, "Nice to meet you, Natalia."

"Where's Embry?" Claire asked, for once wishing Quil would _stop _staring at her.

"Making the food."

"Please tell me his bimbo isn't around." Jacob's pained was enough to answer her question. "Are you kidding! And you guys left them back there!? Alone?!"

"Not alone," Jared's grin was nothing short of evil, and Claire blinked in surprise, "Leah's back there."

Leah. Claire tried to place the name, rapidly flipping through the names and faces she'd stored. "Leah Clearwater?" Emily's friend, er, cousin. Her mom's cousin. Which mean she was her relative. She shook her head – so confusing.

"The one and only."

"She's a bitter shrew," Jacob's said bluntly, "but she'll keep Embry in line."

"Really?"

"In moderation," Kim piped up, "Seth, Paul, Collin, Brady and the others are all back there too, so unfortunately, Leah it isn't a guarantee. She may just be ignoring him entirely."

"Which is why you three are out here with Jacob."

Quil grinned, "Guilty."

Claire shifted in Quil's arms – surprised to notice she'd actually forgotten he was holding her – to look at Natalia. "How are you doing?" She asked, remembering how intimidating she had felt her first time meeting the self-proclaimed guardians of La Push.

"Never better," Natalia grinned. "So when do I get to meet everyone else?"

Jacob grinned, putting down the hammer in his hand and wiping a bit of sweat off his brow with his shirt, "Right now. Come on."

Quil finally put her down, instead taking her hand, and they made their way to the backyard. The yard was filled with huge, looming figures. Claire was only slightly surprised to find her own aunt sitting beside Leah. Emily smiled when she caught sight of her, waving.

Claire waved back.

"I take it _that's_ Embry," Natalia's tone was nothing short of disdainful as she nudged Claire, motioning slightly with her head.

Claire followed her gaze… and fought the urge to vomit. She gagged instead. Embry was currently sitting by the grill, steaks forgotten, with the empty-headed bimbo straddling his lap as they swapped saliva.

Leah had glanced up to look at her, and seeing her facial expression, followed her gaze. Apparently catching sight of the scene for the first time she yelled out an angry, "Embry!" Her tone was nothing short of terrifying, "So help me God if you burn my food…"

"Jealous shrew," she heard Embry murmur, but he nonetheless pushed the girl off his lap just slightly, tilting his head to look at the steaks.

"I didn't come here for a sex show!" Leah snapped, and this time, Embry pushed the girl completely off his lap, standing up.

"Are you sure?" He yelled back, "Because I thought that was sort of your thing, you know, since you aren't getting any."

Leah was up and out of her seat faster than Claire would have thought possible, but Jacob somehow managed to intercept her before she could reach Embry. He whispered something in her ear, and the woman glanced over at Claire and Natalia. She snarled, and for a moment, Claire felt a very real flash of fear.

"_Forget it, Claire. I'm just trying to protect you."_

"_Why is everyone telling me they're trying to protect me?! I can protect myself!"_

"_You don't even know from what!"_

Claire shook her head, pushing away the panic for what seemed like the millionth time. _Crazy._

"Embry," Claire called out, striving to keep her voice steady. Embry glanced quickly in her direction before flipping over the steaks, "do you think you could keep your hormones in check for a few hours?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Embry called back, not bothering to turn around.

"We have company," Quil replied, tone bored.

"Claire doesn't count as company, anymore, she's family."

Her heart warmed at that, but she still frowned at him, "He's not talking about me, idiot."

Embry turned around at last, eyes lit with curiosity. Claire motioned to Natalia, who was standing beside her looking extremely unimpressed. "Embry Call, Natalia Darlington."

"I'd say nice to meet you," Natalia drawled, "but I'm too busy trying to keep down my vomit."

Claire snorted, covering her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide her laughter.

Embry's er, companion, who Claire finally remembered was named Tessa, piped up at last, "What the hell is your problem?" Her gaze transferred to Claire, "And what the hell are _you _doing here?! EMBRY!"

Natalia winced, rubbing her ear, "God, tone it down a little, I'd like to retain my hearing."

It was then that Claire realized that Embry hadn't replied. Which was, she reflected, extremely uncharacteristic of him. She would have expected some sort of witty reply, or some rude comment that he thought was funny. She got neither.

"EMBRY!" Tessa was still yelling his name loudly, obviously upset by the lack of attention. "Stop staring at her! Why are you staring at her!"

Everyone in the vicinity now leaned in, eyes riveted on the scene.

Embry still hadn't so much as glanced at Tessa. Instead, he was staring at Natalia was an expression of awe. Tessa was tugging on his hand now, but he didn't move, eyes focused on the girl beside Claire as though she were the only other person around. His lips were parted in shock, and he looked, Claire noted, as though someone had just punched him in the gut.

"Embry?" She asked, tentatively. She glanced at Quil, to see if _he_ understood what was going on, and found that he was staring at his friend with wide eyes that were, she saw, merely surprised – there wasn't even a hint of confusion in his gaze.

"Oh my god," he murmured beneath his breath.

She tugged on his hand, "Quil? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said, tensing suddenly.

Another secret, she thought with a sigh.

Beside her, Natalia was shifting uncomfortably. "Sorry," she said, "that came out really bitchy – I was only kidding. Well, not really, but still, it was totally out of place, I didn't—" She cut off abruptly, as though she realized she'd been babbling. "Are you alright?" She asked at last, green eyes concerned as she looked at Embry.

As always, Jacob was the first to react. He laughed loudly, stepping in front of a suddenly trembling Embry and putting an arm around him, punching him lightly in the back, "Earth to Embry," he said loudly, "anyone home?" His voice dropped suddenly, and he murmured something Claire couldn't understand. Judging by the indignant and slightly confused expression on Tessa's face, neither did she.

Claire's frown deepened.

Natalia stepped forward. "I'm really sor—"

Jacob said something else, and Embry suddenly laughed. The laugh sounded forced to Claire's ears, but everyone else seemed to relax as they heard it, leaning back into their seats.

"Thought we lost you there, Em."

Embry shook his head, "Naw, I was just messing with you guys."

Natalia didn't look convinced, and her expression was contrite as she continued to inch forward. "I really am sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Its fine," Embry cut in with a wave of his hand, flashing a genuine smile, "We _were_ being pretty obnoxious."

Natalia smiled back, and Claire saw her relax a little. "At least you can admit it."

"Embry!" Tessa shrieked loudly, "It's not fine! It was _rude_." She spun around to look at Natalia, "Listen, I don't know who the hell you think you are, bitch, but—"

There was a collective wince.

"Tessa!" Embry's tone was nothing short of dangerous. Remarkably calm, but frightening all the same; it was the tone Claire's mother had used with her when she was a child and had thrown one too many tantrums. The one that said: I won't kill you know, because we're in public, but I _will _kill you later.

Tessa blinked in surprise. "But," she sputtered, "but Embry…"

Embry's jaw clenched, and he turned, much to Claire's surprise, to look at Natalia. "Excuse me for a second?" The brunette, looking very much bewildered, nodded numbly in response.

"Embry…" Tessa's voice was uneasy, hesitant, "what…"

"Come on," Embry said, and he tugged her away from the group.

"Good riddance," Jacob murmured, and Claire knew the girl was done.

"I'll be right back," Quil whispered in her ear, and she barely had time to nod before he made a beeline for Jacob.

"That was… weird." Natalia said, coming to stand beside Claire.

Claire only nodded.

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but your friend… when he looked at me… it was like…" Natalia threw up her hands suddenly, "Shit," she murmured, "that was weird."

_It was like you'd always known him, _Claire thought, _like everything just fell into place._

"How did you know?"

She blinked, surprised to find she'd said the words out loud. "It was the same for me," she admitted at last, "when I saw Quil."

"This is crazy," Natalia murmured,

_Crazy_, Claire agreed. Crazy because she was starting to believe there was such a thing as love at first sight – even when she knew better. Crazy because she was starting to believe in the existence of bonds between people – eternal bonds that tied two souls together no matter what.

Crazy, because she was starting to notice things she hadn't before. The way Quil had sensed danger the day of the cook out. No one had called him – his phone hadn't rung, hadn't beeped. The way that the moment the howling stopped, Jared, Quil, and Jacob had all stumbled back into the house, exhausted. The way everyone had been so calm, that day the wolf had visited her. Even Sam had taken the entire situation in stride, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

The way every member of the gang moved with unnatural grace – the grace of an animal. Movements that were as beautiful as they could be deadly.

She could still hear Embry, in her head. _"He wouldn't hurt you."_

"_That's another thing – you keep referring to him as a 'he' like he's a person or something."_

Crazy, because she thought maybe – just maybe – the legends _weren't _so far off the mark.

**A/N: Happy New Year! You guys are amazing!**


	17. Chapter 16: Actions and Words

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter Sixteen: Actions and Words**

**By: L. B. Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight, **_**Quil, or Claire. Natalia is entirely my creation.**

She probably would have stayed in the same position – gaping stupidly off into the distance whilst thinking that her boyfriend was probably a furry shape shifter – but Tessa's shrill voice echoing across the lawn snapped her back into reality.

"You can't do that!"

Claire turned her gaze away from Quil and Jacob and back to Embry. He was still standing a good distance from the rest of them, definitely out of hearing range, but Tessa's voice seemed to carry easily. Claire heard her loud and clear.

Natalia shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "Did I just step into a crappy daytime soap opera? Because I feel like I did."

Claire shook of her thoughts as best she could, "I swear it's not normally this insane. Although, you're one to talk, two minutes ago you were saying how you felt a connection with Embry."

"I was clearly high." Natalia replied. Her grin was convincing enough, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

Claire smiled back at her, feeling a flash of sympathy for the other girl. After all, hadn't she gone through the same thing Quil? Wasn't she going through the very same thing _now? _Not wanting to dwell on her own thoughts, Claire turned her attention back to Embry.

Her friend was saying something – what, she didn't know – and waving his arm around in what she was sure was intended to be a conciliatory motion.

Tessa was practically stomping her feet in response. "You can't!" She shrieked, "You asked _me _out! You can't just change your mind!"

"Do you think she's intentionally stupid?" Natalia was openly staring with her now, "Or do you think this is just a first for her?"

"I don't know," Claire said. "If I'm being honest, I'm too busy celebrating the fact that she's as good as gone."

Embry said something else, and Tessa just yelled out again in frustration. "No! No, no, no, no! I hate you!"

"She's very original," Natalia commented sarcastically.

Claire felt her lips turn up. "Oh, yes, very."

Embry turned away and began to walk back over to the crowd, but Tessa caught him by the arm. "Wait, no, baby, I didn't mean it. We can work this out – whatever this is."

Embry made his reply.

"You can't be serious!" Tessa yelled, "This is about her isn't it!"

Claire couldn't help it. She followed the motion of Tessa's arm straight back to… Natalia. Her friend shifted uncomfortably beside her, pretending that the entire group _hadn't _just turned to stare at her.

"Go to hell Embry Call! I hate you! You're scum you stupid, idiotic, son of a bitch!"

Natalia lifted an eyebrow as everyone's gaze transferred back to Tessa. Claire figured the crowd had stopped pretending they weren't listening. "She's not doing much to preserve her dignity here. I almost feel bad."

Tessa's hand connected with the side of Embry's face. "Ow!" The girl yelped as though she'd hurt her hand, drawing it back almost immediately. "You… you…I HATE YOU!" She spun around, nose in the air as she marched through the crowd to her car.

Claire bit her lip to keep from laughing.

The car door slammed shut, the engine roared to life, and Tessa disappeared down the street. Leah leaned back in her chair before holding up a bottle of beer in toast, "And good riddance."

Everyone else wholeheartedly agreed.

"Well," Natalia played with the medallion around her neck, turning to look at Claire, "that was interesting."

Claire nodded, lips curving into a wry smile. "Absolutely fascinating."

"I'm going to go grab a drink," Natalia jerked her thumb in the direction of the wobbly picnic table turned refreshment area, "you want something?"

Claire shook her head, "I'm good, thanks. You need company, or are you good?"

Natalia shook her head. "If nothing else, that display right there cured my fear of you all _forever_."

She laughed, "I can see how that would happen."

"I'll be right back."

It was only after her friend was half way to the table that realized that Embry was making his way over to the very same area, his hands jammed into his pockets. She decided Natalia didn't need any warning, and made her way over to a vacant bench to wait for Quil.

She was probably being rude. She probably should have gone over to Emily and said hello, at least. But she couldn't bring herself to get any closer to the laughing crowd. For once, she wanted to be on the outside. She wanted to _see_.

With her insane but possibly true theory, it was as if the entire group had transformed. She noticed all the little things now: the way they moved, the way their bodies seemed to be forever tense, waiting for the battle.

Quil caught her eye, his tall frame moving through the crowd beside Jacob's and intercepting Embry's journey to the refreshments.

Claire's eyes narrowed. What were they hiding now?

Her own paranoia astounded her, and she laughed lightly, pulling her feet up so they rested on the bench and dropping her jaw onto her knees. Of all the problems she'd thought she'd have after acquiring a steady boyfriend she truly cared for, this was certainly not one of them.

And why the _hell _was she still thinking about this? Seriously? A wolf? Her boyfriend was a wolf? Yeah, she was nuts.

It was a little unsettling to think that it could be true, but she figured she could deal with it if it _was_. After all, she felt safe around the wolf, and she felt safe around Quil. She'd felt a connection with the wolf, and she'd felt a connection with Quil. So if they were one in the same, who the hell cared? She would suck it up, and she would deal.

To hell with her promise to Embry and Jacob about not pushing Quil for answers. She was going to her answers. Soon. Preferably in under twenty four hours.

"That's right," she muttered, "answers. I am going to get answers. I need answers. Before I go insane. I don't want to live in a white padded room. White padded rooms are boring. Furry boyfriends _aren't_ boring. Oh, god, I'm blabbing again."

Wonderful, she wasn't even talking endlessly to other people now – she was blabbering on to herself.

"Oh La Push," she groaned, burying her head between her knees, "how cruel thou art."

Claire honestly wished there was an 'off' button for her brain. She was giving herself a head ache.

"Claire?" Quil's voice was half-amused, half-concerned.

Her head snapped up so quickly she was surprised it didn't go flying clear off her neck. "Yes?" She was unfortunately aware of the fact that her eyes were abnormally wide and her face was screaming, 'please tell me you didn't hear that.'

Wonderful. The situation just kept getting better.

"Um, are you alright?"

"Fine." She said, a little too quickly.

"Why are you over here by yourself?" He turned to look pointedly at the crowd of people sitting just a few feet away.

"I needed some alone time," she said, tone annoyingly defensive.

_Get a hold of yourself, Claire. He's going to think you're insane. More insane._

He opened his mouth quickly, but then closed it again, apparently deciding not to comment. "…you ready to join the group yet?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "Very ready." She took his offered hand and stood up from her seat.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look a little distraught."

She was pretty sure 'little' was an understatement. "Fine," she said, forcing her voice to come out casual and failing miserably. Clearly, sitting alone with her thoughts was a very bad idea.

In what appeared to be a running trend, he caught her by the waist and pulled her back to bench, sitting down beside her. "Is this…is this about what happened with Matt?"

She was floored. "What?!" She sputtered loudly, "M-Matt?" Now she felt terrible. "Of course not!" She was stumbling over her words in an attempt to reassure him. It was hard to remember, sometimes, that she wasn't the only one who could feel insecure. "Matt can go to hell for all I care. I swear." Claire reached out, putting one hand to the side of his face. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss home sometimes. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss Vicki, and Starbucks, and the people at school. But none of that matters, Quil. This isn't about Matt. For me, there's only you."

Something flickered across his face – something that looked remarkably like hope – and his eyes softened. "So we're okay?"

She hesitated – only for a moment – before nodding. "We're okay."

He must have caught the hesitation because his face fell.

_Damn it, Claire. _She silently cursed herself. _Just ask him already. It isn't that hard. Open your mouth, say the words, and end this now._

But when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. Instead, she simply moved her hand from the side of his face to the back of his neck and tugged his lips down to hers. She desperately wanted to erase that pained look from his face, not to mention erase her disastrously confused thoughts.

Their lips met with practiced familiarity, and Claire immediately felt the spark ignite between the two of them. It was like a sudden flow of electricity ran all the way from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She infused the kiss with everything she had – all her doubts, all her fears, and all her (alright, she'd admit it now) love. Because the truth was, she _did _love him – furry habits or not.

He seemed to sense how much she needed the kiss, the reminder that he was very much real and very much there – not in some fairy tale legend of sorts. His hand settled roughly around her waist, and she was suddenly pulled into his lap.

By the time he pulled away a few minutes (or possibly seconds) later, she was panting and very much out of breath. She didn't kiss him again, because she was pretty sure the rest of the people around her wouldn't appreciate it, but she did trace the side of his face with the tip of her finger. She had the pleasure of seeing him inhale sharply.

Too tempted and too hormonal to resist the urge, she leaned forward and kissed the side of his neck up to his jaw line before meeting his eyes again.

"We're okay." Even to her ears, her breath sounded ragged.

His eyes traced her face and he nodded. "Alright."

"But," her hands fluttered about nervously, playing with the fabric of his shirt. "I do need to talk to you about something."

"You're sure we're okay?" He asked, and she felt satisfied hearing that he was as out of breath as she was.

"Yeah." And for once, she was. If he laughed at her, so be it, she'd say it was a joke. And if he confirmed… well, whatever.

"Alright. Were you going to need a ride home tonight?"

Claire grinned. "Natalia drove me here. I'll tell her she doesn't need to worry about getting me back."

Quil smiled back at her, and her heart started pounding. "Good." He helped her slide off his lap before he stood up and they finally made it back over to everyone else.

Natalia was sitting across from Embry, a plastic cup of Pepsi dangling from her hands as she lifted one eyebrow and twisted her lips into a wry smile. "Did you two have fun?"

Claire shrugged, "Yes. How about you?"

Embry leaned back and nudged her with his shoulder. "I've been trying to convince her to go out with me for the past twenty five minutes to no avail. Care to lend a hand?"

Natalia practically lunged across the table. "Enough!"

"Behave, Em," she pushed him playfully. "And move your ass over, we need to sit."

Obediently, Embry moved over, and she squeezed in between him and Quil. Across from her Jacob, grinned, rolling his eyes in Embry's direction before looking pointedly at Natalia. Farther down the table, Emily was laughing, sparkling eyes settling on her niece as a soft smile graced her face.

Claire nestled into the crook of Quil's arm, and smiled. She wasn't going to doubt herself. No matter what, she knew this was where she belonged.

-

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

Quil dropped his keys on the porch railing before leaning back against the wood, arms crossed as he looked at her. She paced the length of the porch, wringing her hands nervously. She'd been silently prepping for this moment the entire way back home, but now that it had come…

Well, to say she was freaking out was putting it lightly.

"I…" Her voice failed her for a moment, so she took a deep breath and tried again, "I need you to tell me what the big secret is. I need to know, Quil."

His eyes widened immediately, and she could see the alarm that flickered there. The gnawing feeling in her stomach increased in intensity. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Claire—"

"No," she held up a hand, "let me say this first. I _know_ you don't want to tell me. I _know_ you're nervous about it, whatever it is, but I've been living in this sheltered bubble, and I've been hearing things and… and it's freaking me out. So I need to know, Quil. I need to know."

"I thought…" His mouth closed, and she could see him swallow, even across the porch. The moonlight flickered across his face. A full moon that night. It was eerily fitting considering _what_ she was thinking. "I thought you said we were good."

"We _are_. I just need to know."

"If we're fine, why do you need to know?"

What was it with him and driving their conversations around in circles? "I already told you, Quil. I've been hearing things, and it's making me freak out. I just want the truth, no matter what it is."

"What… what have you been hearing?"

The million dollar question. And one she didn't particularly want to answer. "I… you're… you're going to think I'm nuts."

"Try me," he replied dryly.

"Natalia… Natalia was telling me some stories. She was telling me what she's heard of your legends." Every muscle in his body tensed. It amazed her, how immediately, he was stiff as a board. So then… "She said you guys could… transform."

"Transform?"

"Into animals. You know, like…shape shifters. You could… change into wolves. _You_ could be _my _wolf."

He turned his back to her, hands gripping the railing as though it were a lifeline. "You said you wouldn't ask me about this. You promised Jake and Embry—"

Lovely. So the three of them were communicating about this. "I know what I said, Quil, but that was before! I just need an answer. A straight answer. I need the truth!"

"Why?!" He was screaming now. For once, it was him who was raising his voice first. "Why does it matter so damn much?!"

"Because it does!" She screamed back. "Because I've been living in this secret since I got here, and I need to know! Because if we're going to have any kind of relationship, you need to trust me _not _to walk away, no matter _what_ you tell me!"

"Why can't _you_ trust _me_?!"

"This isn't about my trust in you, Quil! This is about you making decisions for me! I'm sick and tired of this shit!"

"It's my damn secret! I'll keep it if I want to! I'm trying to protect _you,_ damn it!"

"I don't need protection!"

"Yes you do!"

"No, I don't!"

She was surprised her aunt and uncle weren't running out of the house. But then, they both knew about the secret, and no doubt they suspected this would happen sometime.

"Damn it Claire, you don't know what you're asking!"

"Yes, I do! I'm asking for the truth! This isn't just your secret, Quil, it belongs to everyone here. _Everyone _but me knows it. But for some reason, they all differ back to you when it comes to telling me. So I'm asking _you_, please tell me, I need to know. I don't need you to protect me or save me, I need you to see me as an equal. I need you to tell me the truth."

"I don't want to drag you down into this, Claire, I—"

"You know what I think?!" She cut in angrily, "I think you're a coward. I think you're scared. Because whatever this secret of yours is, it's definitely out there, no matter if I'm right or not. You're scared I'm going to go running the other way, but I'm not, Quil."

He laughed bitterly. "You say that now, but you don't know that. Look at yourself, Claire! You're freaking out over a theory! A _theory_! You said it yourself, it's eating you alive. So how can I trust you with this secret?! "

Damn him. He was twisting her words around in a way she hadn't intended. God, he was frustrating. "Damn you, Quil Ateara!" She screamed loudly, no longer caring even the slightest if she woke up Sam or Emily. "Damn you! I'm almost eighteen years old, alright? I'm old enough to make my own decisions, so stop trying to make them for me! I love you, okay?! I said it, are you happy?! I love you. And I love that damn wolf. So if the two of you are one in the same, then just tell me _damn it_. Is it weird? Yes. Does it freak me out? Yeah, it kind of does. But whatever, Quil, we can work through it. I can't get rid of that wolf anymore than I can get rid of you. Both of you are part of me, whether I like it or not. And I can't get rid of that – I don't _want _to." She surged forward, taking his face in both of her hands and yanking him down so he was eye level with her. "So please – _please_ – talk to me. Tell me the truth."

His hazel eyes studied her face, lingering on her eyes. She knew what he was seeing there. He saw her panic, pure panic and frustration combined with a million other confliction emotions. Pure turmoil, that's what he was seeing. His hands closed around her wrists, tugging gently so she released him. Her heart plummeted.

"This was a mistake," he said at last. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I shouldn't have let Emily bring you here. You aren't ready for this. You shouldn't have to deal with this. I'm sorry." He picked up his keys.

"Don't apologize," she cut him off as he attempted to move for his car. "Don't apologize, damn it." Anger burned her veins, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I think you love me. I think you care about me. But I swear Quil, if you walk away now, I don't want to see you ever again. If you can't be straight with me now… forget it. Forget everything. I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me."

He pushed past her gently. "Goodbye, Claire."

The second time, she thought, her brain detaching from the rest of her. It was the second time he'd walked away from her. She had her pride, she'd meant what she said, she wouldn't allow for a third. No matter how much it ate her alive, no matter how much it hurt, she wouldn't let it happen again.

But, feeling her heart shatter into a million pieces, she almost yelled out. Almost begged him to turn around and come back. Before, when he'd walked away, she hadn't really known him. The void she'd already had had simply been brought to heightened awareness, but she hadn't actually lost anything. Now, she felt the loss keenly.

Her body was suddenly cold, and her eyes flooded with tears. She waited until she saw his car disappear around the corner before letting out a loud sob and turning for the door. The tears made her vision blurry, but she somehow managed to get the screen door open.

Emily was waiting for her there.

Her aunt moved toward her, arms open, face sympathetic, but Claire moved back just as quickly. "Don't touch me," she hissed.

Emily's drew back in shock. "Claire—"

"Why did you bring me here?! Why the _hell_ did you bring me here?!" She was screaming again, wanting to take her frustration, her anger, out on someone else. It wasn't Emily's fault Quil was an asshole, in her mind, she knew that, but she couldn't. She couldn't assimilate the facts. She didn't want to.

The car keys seemed to sparkle at her from the kitchen counter, and she lunged for them, twirling around so as to dance out of Emily's reach. "Leave me the hell alone!" She screamed, and she tripped back outside, blindly making her way to the car.

Alone. She wanted to be alone.

She wasn't sure, later, how she got the car on. Much less was she sure how she managed to pull out onto the road.

She pushed down hard on the acceleration and she rolled down all the windows, letting the wind rip through her hair. But no matter how cold the air was against her skin, no matter how much her face stung, she couldn't seem to fill the hole that had ripped open inside of her.

He had walked away from her, and this time, she knew he wasn't coming back.

**A/N: Yay for updates! My schedule is still insane, so don't be surprised if the next update isn't for awhile. My muse does seem to have returned however, so maybe…**

**FAQ:**

**Q: Embry has Natalia, Quil has Claire, who the heck does Jacob have?!**

**A: Many chapters ago, I mentioned the possibility of doing a sequel about Jacob. However, Claire and Quil took this story places I didn't entirely expect it to go, so everything is up in the air right now. I do have a girl in mind for Jake, but everything depends on whether or not I can weave her into the end of this story and into his life without disrupting the general balance. In short: we'll see.**


	18. Quil: Mistakes

_**Mistakes**_

**Not actually a new chapter, I'm afraid, just a little note that I posted a companion one-shot to THL, **_**Mistakes**_**. It picks up at the end of the last chapter, and it's written from Quil's pov. Go check it out!**


	19. Chapter 17: At Last I Can Go No Farther

_**The Half Life**_**  
Chapter Seventeen: At Last I Can Go No Farther  
By: L. B. Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Twilight, **_**Quil or Claire. **

By the time she pushed the door open and stepped back into Sam and Emily's house a few hours later, the numbness had begun to set in. She'd cried herself dry, but twin streaks of mascara remained on her cheeks and her eyes were rimmed with red – plain evidence of the time she'd spent hunched over in the car, shoulders shaking with tears.

Even now, she was still having difficulty wrapping her mind around the situation. All the implicit truths and questions Quil had left her with when he'd turned and walked away had left her thoughts a mess. And worse still was the humiliation and abandonment she felt deep within the pit of her stomach.

_I love you._

She'd said the words.

She'd let him see her at her most vulnerable.

And he had left.

Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but she pushed up the stairs and to her room anyways. The house felt foreign now, as though she didn't belong. She'd always seen La Push as a second home, but after the sudden realization that no one was ever going to tell her the truth – that Quil was never going to let her in entirely – it suddenly felt different. It was as though she'd been wearing a mask before, and now that mask had been ripped from her, leaving her with a painful and harsh reality.

She breathed in deeply, her eyes stinging and her throat clogging up. _Stop thinking about it. _

But not thinking about it – about him – was impossible. It was impossible to think of anything but the pain, and that was what was killing her.

How had it come to this? She wondered, pushing the door of her bedroom open and falling in a graceless heap onto her bed. How had she become this mess? Why hadn't she listened to her mother and stayed in New York?

The pain in her heart was acute. She'd spent so many years looking for Quil, and she'd found him, only to lose him again…

He'd destroyed her in a matter of mere minutes.

Not only had he broken her heart, but he'd shattered her hopes into a million pieces.

"_I_ _don't want you to ever feel like you don't belong here_. _Never. This place will always be your home – for as long as you wanted it to be._"

She'd honestly thought she would be able to find the home her mother and father hadn't given her here. That she'd find a family unlike the one her and her mother formed. Because the truth was, she'd never felt… right with her mother. Hilary was always so stiff and logical – Emily's complete opposite. And Claire had _needed _an Emily in her life.

No matter how she looked at the situation, or how she tried to delude herself into thinking that it wasn't so bad, there didn't seem a way to stop the ache in her heart. Hell, she couldn't even hope to make the pain fade. All that was left to her was to try to learn to live with it, because she was never going back to Quil again.

But she hadn't just lost Quil – she'd lost La Push too. Because there was no way she could stay on the reservation and not be with him. Because she knew that every time she stepped outside, she'd think of him. Every time she spoke to Embry or Jacob, she'd wish it was him. Because every time she saw him – and she _would _see him, if only because he was such good friends with Sam – her wound would rip open anew.

As it was, she already felt as though someone had just reached into her chest and pulled out a living, beating heart.

She rolled over onto her side, hugging her pillow against her chest. Almost immediately, her eyes were drawn to the single rose that remained on her nightstand.

The knife in her heart twisted and she bit her lip so hard she thought she tasted blood in her mouth.

She squeezed her eyes closed, and prayed the pain would stop.

-

_The scene before her was hauntingly familiar. The forest was still covered in morning dew and if for only a few seconds, the sun and the moon remained together in the sky. In the woods, flashes of chocolate brown appeared and disappeared as fast as she could blink, and in her heart, there was the familiar ache to follow those flashes of color._

_She reached out a hand to push her bangs away from her eyes. Already, her hair was beginning to stick to her shoulders and her body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her heart rate was accelerated, and she moved quickly through the trees, feet covering the familiar paths with precision. _

_Blue eyes searched her surroundings, narrowing in thought as she caught yet another flash of brown. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and she felt a spark of desperation settle somewhere in her stomach. _

"_Wait!" She called out, running after it only to stumble, moving too quickly to be graceful._

_Her muscles ached as she pushed herself off the floor, the palms of her hands scrapped and bleeding. _

"_Wait!" She yelled out again, moving forward with renewed vigor. "Don't be afraid!" She didn't know where the words came from – after all, what damage could she possibly inflict on a wolf? – but somehow they felt right. _

This isn't right.

_The voice exploded in her mind, as clearly as though someone had spoken them to her aloud. _

"_Why not?!" _

I shouldn't do this to her.

_The words were spoken absentmindedly, and she realized with a start that he wasn't speaking to her, but to himself. _

_She fell back against a tree, out of breath and exhausted. One hand moved to hover above her heart, and she tilted her head back, her blond hair tangling in the branches. "Why do you keep hiding from me?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper._

I'm afraid. _His voice responded with equal softness, tainted with emotion. He seemed quiet, hesitant, fearful… _

_The tone of his voice was enough to get her back to her feet, and she pushed forward once more, disregarding the logic and thought patterns that had led her in her previous quests and moving instead on pure instinct. _

_She burst out into the clearing mere minutes later. "Quil!"_

_She started in surprise at the name, mainly because up until that moment, her mind had been struggling to accept the truth: that the wolf and Quil were one and the same._

_She was surprised when she saw him standing there motionless, as though he was waiting for her. His four paws were set firmly on the floor, and his dark hazel eyes watched her from beneath the shadows of the trees. _

_It was his eyes that struck her, the truth hitting her at once._

_How could she not have recognized those eyes? How could she have not recognized those eyes when she'd seen them every night in her dreams for years?_

"_Quil," his name slipped from her lips again, and suddenly, his paws disappeared, and he was human, two sneakered feet planted firmly on the ground. _

_Her heart pounded furiously as she took a tentative step forward, her own sneakers sinking into the mud with every step. Slowly, she reached out a hand. _

_Her palm fell upon his chest, and her fingers closed around the coarse material of his shirt._

_The corners of his mouth turned upward in a small smile, and his hand moved to cover hers._

_For that one marvelous second, she knew that he was hers. "Finally," she was surprised when the word slipped from her lips like a prayer. "Finally, we're together. I love you."_

_The second the last word left her mouth, he began to step back, eyes wide and filled with fear. She stumbled forward, arms outstretched and a cry clogged somewhere within her throat._

"_No!" _

_His eyes seemed to ask her forgiveness, but he still turned and left, and she fell to the floor, her open arms catching nothing but air._

"_No!"_

_She wanted desperately to get to her feet and run after him. To keep running until she finally found him again. But with surprise, she realized she _couldn't.

_She was crippled on the floor._

"No!" This time, the cry really did rip from her throat.

Claire threw herself upright in her bed, her chest heaving and her eyes wild. It took her a moment before she realized she was once more in her room. Beside her, on the dresser, the petals of the rose were scattered and wilted.

_Oh, god._

The bedroom door swung open and Emily ran inside, her tall frame covered with a thick white bathrobe. "Claire!"

Emily ran a comforting hand across her hair, humming softly beneath her breath. "Another nightmare?" Her voice was quiet and resigned.

Claire nodded. "Another nightmare," she agreed, leaning into her aunt's embrace.

"Claire… I wish I could help you." Emily kissed the top of her head, "It's been days now…"

There really wasn't a point in Emily pointing that out, Claire mused. She knew how long it had been. Three long nights since Quil had walked off the porch and hadn't looked back. Three nights – each one filled with the same dream. And every single night, she'd woken up to find herself alone in her room.

She moved her arms so that she was hugging her aunt, and buried her face in Emily's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Emily." And she was sorry. She was sorry for pushing her aunt away for so long. For having turned her out of the room every night until this one with curses and thrown objects.

Emily hugged her tighter. "It's alright," she said, "I'm just glad you're finally letting me in. I just want to help you."

_Then tell me the truth_. The words didn't come out. Claire knew better than to say them. After all, she'd spent the better part of the month begging for _someone _to tell her truth, and no one had. What was the point now? She practically knew it anyways. "I can't do this anymore, Aunt Emily. I just can't."

"Can't do what anymore, Claire?"

"Sit here waiting. I can't run anymore, but I can't wait anymore, either. It hurts too much to wake up…" Her aunt probably hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "I want to go, Aunt Emily."

"Go where?"

"Home."

A broken howl ripped through the night.

**A/N: Wow. That only took forever. Many apologies. Also, I know this chapter is shorter than most, but I'll make it up to you, I promise. Now, please go click the little 'review' button and give me feedback. I feel I should point out, that it's thanks to all of you who PMed me/reviewed and asked me (very nicely) to get off my ass that this chapter is now posted. So I humbly offer my thanks for your harassment – it does me wonders of good!**


	20. Chapter 18: Lost Without You

_**The Half Life**_

**Chapter 18: Lost Without You**

**By: L.5914**

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Twilight, **_**Quil, or Claire, but this story is all mine. **

She didn't want to leave.

She knew that and she was fairly sure Emily knew it as well. In fact, she was pretty sure even _Sam _had picked up on her hesitance that morning when she'd finally crawled out of bed and dialed her mother's number.

No, she didn't want to leave, but she had to.

She kept trying to find something – anything – that would justify her staying in La Push. She ran through all the usual justifications – her friends, her family, hell, even _school_ – but there was nothing that could make the pain of Quil not wanting her go away.

How was she supposed to face the rest of La Push when she couldn't even bear to look at the kitchen counter without remembering how his lips had felt against hers? How her skin had tingled and sparks had run up and down her spine in nameless anticipation beneath his touch?

She didn't have much experience with heartbreak. She'd spent all her time before Quil in meaningless relationships, based purely in physical attractions and a little bit of genuine appreciation. There had never been anything tying her to Matt except the fact that she was comfortable with him, and he was sweet, and why not?

With Quil, there had been a million reasons _not _to date him, and no real reason to actually accept him, but she'd gone against everything logic said and put herself out there anyway. It made no sense, the more she mulled everything over in her mind, that she should love him the way she did. Even now, after he'd torn her heart into shreds by simply walking away, she ached for him. There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to go after him and beg him to stay with her, because she _needed _him and because somehow she felt a little less whole without him around. It was ludicrous.

What had ever drawn her in? Sure, he was attractive. With those gorgeous hazel eyes, those ridiculously long lashes, and a perfectly sculpted chest, she doubted anyone would argue that he wasn't, but she wasn't shallow enough to date someone just because they _looked _nice. She should have let it die at the beginning, when he'd been clear that she was the last person he wanted to be around, avoiding her at all cost and dismissing her easily.

Where had her pride gone?

She twirled her cell phone absentmindedly between her fingers, using her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. No matter how many times she ran everything over in her mind, nothing ever seemed to make any more sense. She didn't even have the certainty of knowing that her theory about Quil and the wolf being one and the same was correct.

Going back to New York was going to be hard. Claire couldn't quite fathom returning to the distantly familiar polluted air, huge school, and old friends. She'd grown to enjoy the quiet wilderness that enveloped La Push almost entirely.

Thinking about New York reminded her off Matt's unanswered text messages, and she felt a flash of guilt. Before leaving for La Push, she and Matt had had more than one fight about his stupid friends and his ridiculous weekend drinking habits, but he'd never walked away from her. He'd stood by her through everything, and he'd supported her in almost everything she'd done. She had been the one to walk away, abandoning him for La Push.

Now that she knew what if felt like to be abandoned, how could she blame him for his reaction? How could she blame him for demanding answers? Sure, he could have been more tactful about it, but he'd been angry and hurt and he'd lashed out. She could understand that.

She picked up her phone, fingers typing words that meant little but much at the same time, renewed determination setting in. She was closing the book on Quil. She wanted him, and that wasn't going to go away, but she needed to move on, the way he so obviously had. La Push was a tight-knit community, and Embry and Jacob had been around often enough during her three days of lock up that she knew it was impossible for Quil not to have heard of her suffering.

He hadn't come, and she couldn't keep running after him.

Claire was sitting at the kitchen table waiting when the doorbell rang. She was still too numb to contemplate whether or not her rash action was going to have any real consequences as she pulled open the door, trying to plaster a smile on her face and failing miserably.

"Hey."

"Hey," she echoed, leaning against the door. "Do you want to come in?"

"I don't know… last time… your uncle didn't seem too happy to see me. I don't want to upset him."

She nodded, the tiniest flicker of amusement lighting in her stomach. So he was afraid of Sam, was he? She didn't bother mentioning that Sam and the rest weren't even around as she stepped out of the house. He and Emily had left early that morning to go somewhere, where she didn't know.

"Let's go for a walk," she suggested, noting that her voice was raspy and her throat ached. She rubbed it absentmindedly, wondering what had caused the pain – her midnight screams, probably.

Matt shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping off the front steps as he waited for her to shut the screen door and fall in beside him. "I was surprised," he said, tone guarded, "I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"I didn't," she replied honestly. Lies were no good, and she'd suffered through enough of them since getting to La Push.

"Oh." He paused uncomfortably, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another before turning to face her fully. "So what changed your mind?"

"Everything," she shrugged.

Matt's familiar blue eyes were assessing as they looked at her, "What changed, Claire?"

"Everything," she said again, walking forward, running away.

He didn't waste any time in catching up with her, an easy feat considering how much longer his strides were. He caught her gently by the elbow, never pausing in his step. "Are you alright?"

She shied away from the touch. It was too assuming, too intimate. It didn't feel right. He wasn't Quil. He shouldn't be looking at her like that. Claire internally slapped herself – wasn't that the point? That he _wasn't _Quil? Quil was lost to her; it was time to move on.

She let out a mental sigh. No matter how many times she'd told herself that Quil was gone, it never seemed to set in entirely.

Matt pulled his hand back instantly, dipping his head and rolling his eyes. "Sorry."

Wonderful, she sighed, now she'd upset him. "No, I'm sorry, it's just… I've had a rough week."

"We were friends before we dated, Claire, stop running and talk to me, will you?" His voice was rough and cutting. She was grateful for it. She was sick of pity. She'd gotten enough from Emily and Sam these last few days.

"I'm going home," she replied, and this time her voice was stronger.

Matt stumbled. "You _what_?"

"I'm going home."

"I thought you said… what the hell Claire? What happened?"

What happened? Her heart had shattered into a million pieces, she'd realized La Push would never accept her entirely, she'd lost the love of her life… "A lot. I really don't want to talk about it."

"So when are you going back?"

"A few days. I just have to get my stuff wrapped up at school and what not. My mom bought the flight this morning," she ran a hand through her hair, "honestly, I still can't quite believe it myself."

"What about Quil?"

His name was life a knife to the heart, and she inhaled sharply. "We broke up."

"Right," Matt murmured, "well, that I wasn't expecting."

_Neither was I, _she thought wryly. "It was all a mess anyways," she found herself saying, "there was never any sense to our relationships. It was all emotion and feeling and impulse, no logic." She'd liked living without logic, too, until reality had come rushing in and stabbed her through the chest.

"So what are you going to do, when you get back to New York?"

She rolled one shoulder, "Nothing, I guess. Just settle back in. Vicki keeps complaining about how boring life is without me, anyway. Apparently, if I don't get my ass home soon, she's going to rip my entrails out through my noise and serve them to me fried."

Matt laughed. She jumped at the noise, then hoped he hadn't noticed. Since when had she become so skittish? "God, Vicki. She still hates me, in case you were wondering."

She smiled. "It's good to know some things haven't changed."

They were pretty far down the road now, at least a half mile, probably more, but she was still a little surprised when he paused and turned around, leaning against an ancient looking tree. "I wanted to apologize," he said firmly.

"What?"

"I wanted to apologize. For the whole mess I made after you came here. You know, the way I accused of cheating and then after, when I just showed it… I'm sorry. I acted like a dumbass."

She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard Matt say anything remotely self-deprecating. Claire smiled, slightly. "Forgiven."

He waved his hands around widely, "I know I don't have an excuse, really, but… you were always so distant, I never knew quite what to make of you."

Claire tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You never seemed emotionally attached to me. Which is cool, I guess, I liked that you weren't clingy, but it was weird at the same time. I mean, we dated for two years, Claire, and you just up and left like it was nothing."

She bit her bottom lip. "I know. I'm sorry."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "Forgiven."

"Thank you."

He gave her a playful shove, "It's your loss, anyways. I'm an astoundingly attractive guy, so I'm told."

Claire found it surprisingly easy to roll her eyes at him. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm amazing," he replied, "intelligent, handsome, popular, rich—"

"And so humble too," she grinned.

He smiled back at her. "Finally."

"What?"

"You smiled, took you long enough, you were starting to depress me."

"Shut up," she said, though her words lacked conviction. She glanced up at him, settling in beside him against the tree. She kicked a rock around absentmindedly, "God, I can't believe it all came down to this."

"Came down to what?"

"Me, you, my mother buying me a plane ticket home… it's just _weird_. If you had told me a week ago that all of this would happen, I never would have believed it," she inhaled deeply, enjoying the unpolluted air and the smell of the trees, still damp with morning dew. "I'm going to really miss this place."

Matt shifted awkwardly, trying to get an arm around her in a one-armed hug. She moved forward to accommodate his arm before settling into his side, grateful for the comfort. He smelled just the same has he always had. Burberry cologne mixed with laundry detergent and just the faintest smell of the city. Nothing like Quil, who had always smelled of some nameless soap and the forest. "Eh, it's boring. The nearest city isn't nearly as interesting as New York. There's no subway, no obnoxiously loud noises, no polluted air… Where the hell are you going to find a bunch of weirdos to people watch?"

She knew he was teasing her, so she playfully elbowed him in the side. "People watching is fun – especially on the subway."

"Yeah, except it's not so fun when you get yourself killed for looking at someone the wrong way."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mother."

He grunted back at her, and she wondered just why she'd ever dismissed him. Sure, he was no Quil, he didn't make her heart race the same way, or her skin burn beneath his touch, but he was familiar, and kind, and dependable.

She tilted her head up slightly, squinting beneath the sun as she gazed at him. He was handsome, with his light brown hair falling over the tips of his ears, ice blue eyes, and perfectly formed features. He didn't have Quil's strength or height, but he was no ugly duckling.

"You're staring at me," he noted, not bothering to look down at her. "Why?"

"Just thinking."

"Of what, exactly?"

"Honestly?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I want you to lie to me. Yes, honestly."

"I was wondering why I'm such an idiot."

His brow furrowed, and he glanced down at her. "Huh?"

She nodded. "I tossed away everything I had like it was nothing just because I thought I _might _have a chance at something else. I don't get it."

He shrugged. "Neither do I."

He was close enough to her that she only had to shift up the tiniest bit and her lips would brush his. She bit her lip.

He glanced down at her again, unintentionally closing a bit of the already tiny gap between them. "Claire? You alright?"

Why should she be alone? Why should she pine, when he didn't want her? Why, why, why? She pushed up on impulse, her lips crashing into Matt's with a little too much force and knocking him off balance, his back hitting the tree with enough force to cause him to grunt in pain. He froze instantly, but she forged ahead, moving her lips across his again, this time a little more gently.

His hand hesitantly came to rest on her hip, and he began to respond slowly to her kiss. His free arm wound slowly around her waist, pulling her so that their chests touched.

Her heart rate didn't quicken, her breath didn't start coming in short gasps, her skin didn't tingle, there was only the distant haze of comfort and familiarity.

She felt a knot of frustration in her stomach. Why? Why did he have to ruin everything?

She reached her hands up to tangle them in Matt's hair, tugging him closer still, forcing him to deepen the kiss in a desperate attempt to convince herself she could still feel _something_, even as her heart screamed in protest that what she was doing was wrong.

Matt needed no encouragement, moving them so she was trapped between him and the tree, his mouth slanting over hers.

It didn't feel the way it should have. Even as Matt kissed her, her thoughts kept drifting back to Quil. She thought of how he dwarfed her in height. How he folded her into his arms and she felt she could hide there forever, safe and warm and _right_. How when he held her, every nerve in her body seemed to light on fire for him and only him.

Matt pulled away abruptly, and she felt nothing but the loss of warmth. She blinked up at him, noting that _his _breath was coming in quickened breaths, and beneath her palm, she could feel that his heart rate quicken.

She'd never felt so guilty in her entire life, and she was fairly sure it showed on her face. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have done that."

He shook his head, "No, you shouldn't have, and I shouldn't have kissed you back."

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Look, Claire… I do still care about you, but, you're not ready for this, and I'm not going to jump back into a one-sided relationship again," the words weren't unkind, but merely accepting.

Claire nodded, moving her hand off his chest to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know, and I'm sorry. It isn't fair to you."

"No," he said, "it isn't."

"I just…" She trailed off, knowing there was no good explanation for her actions. "Do you think… I'd like it if we could still be friends. You know, when I get back to New York…"

He nodded. "Yeah, sure. After you get out of this place," his smile was teasing again, "it still creeps the hell out of me."

She laughed in pure relief. "Thanks," she said, hugging him quickly. "That means a lot."

He smiled back at her, "Of course."

She stiffened abruptly, catching sight of a flash of chocolate brown in the trees. "Did you see that?"

He turned around, following her gaze into the forest. "See what?"

It couldn't have been… or had it? Oh, god. "There was something there," she said, "I thought I saw something."

Matt studied her. "Are you joking? Because if you are, I have to tell you, it's not funny. I wasn't kidding. This place does give me the creeps."

A loud howl echoed through the forest, and she stiffened instantly, more in surprise than in fear.

"Oh, _shit_," Matt looked like he was ready to pass out. "Oh, dear God."

"Calm down, it's nothing."

"It's nothing?! Claire, that is not _nothing_. There's a damn _wolf _walking around and we're just sitting here waiting to get attacked."

"It isn't all that uncommon," she said, smiling a bit as she watched him hyperventilate. "We _are _right by the woods." It was true, too. Since getting to La Push, she'd gotten used the random howls echoing out at different times of day. She'd tried to figure out a pattern to them, but there didn't seem to be any.

Matt shivered. "Can we go back to the house now?"

She laughed. "Yeah, alright."

Claire let her gaze travel the stretch of trees beside her one last time before falling back into step with Matt, this time heading back the way they'd come. She had hoped to catch another glimpse of chocolate brown, or some sort of sign that he really was there, watching, protecting, the way he had in her dreams for years. If he had been… It would be comforting to know that he hadn't been able to rid himself of her so easily.

She saw nothing.

She let a disappointed sigh slip between her teeth, shoving her hands in her pockets and half listening to Matt as he rambled on about school and their old friends.

"You okay?" He asked, apparently catching on to her inattention as they strolled back into the dirt covered drive way of Sam and Emily's house.

"I'm fine," she said, "just tired."

Matt nodded. "Alright… well, I should get going anyway. I've got a bunch of packing to do. My flight leaves tomorrow."

There was something final about his last sentence, and she realized that even though they'd patched things up, this was a sort of end for them. There was no real way of ever going back to what'd they been. Sure, they would laugh and joke and greet each other, but their failed relationship was always going to stretch awkwardly between them.

She was losing yet another person she cared about. Claire reached out and took his hand on impulse, "Thanks for coming."

"Sure."

"It really meant a lot to me," she pushed up on her toes again, this time pressing a chaste, quick kiss to his cheek. "Bye, Matt."

There was the flicker of a smile on his face. "Bye, Claire."

She watched his car until she couldn't see it anymore, and then she turned back to the house, dragging her feet up the stairs of the porch and pushing her key in the door knob. Somehow, she felt even lonelier than before.

The kitchen was still empty when she walked in, and she wondered just where Emily and Sam had disappeared too. It wasn't like either of them to leave the reservation, especially not for long periods of time.

She poured herself a glass of juice and kicked the refrigerator door closed, casting a glance at front door. She'd left the door unlocked, as was custom, but no one seemed inclined to come in. Usually, there was a constant flow of people, as all the boys seemed to show up at the most random of hours, just to chat or get something to eat, but Emily must have warned everyone away, because since she'd broken up with Quil, the house had been mostly quiet.

She boosted herself up on the kitchen table, her mind rolling over the memories. If she tried hard enough, she could almost feel Quil's fingers trailing down her side, almost remember exactly how his lips had touched hers.

The sound of the screen door creaking open snapped her back into reality, and her fingers tightened around her glass as she eased off the table.

"Emily? Sam?"

Sam nodded his greeting as he shoved his way through the doorway, hands filled with bags of groceries and cleaning supplies and looking less than pleased. Emily slipped in behind him, coming up to stand next to her niece with the same comforting smile she'd worn for days.

"How are you?"

Claire shrugged, playing with the half-empty class in her hands. "Where'd you guys go? I was beginning to think something had happened."

"Claire," Emily paused, her eyes clouded with worry. Claire felt her heart constrict painfully, "There's something you need to—"

The screen door burst open again, the sound cutting off whatever bad news Emily had been about to impart. The sound of heels against the worn wood of the floor echoed out in warning before another figure slipped into the kitchen, eyes wide and lips smiling.

"Hey, little sister, how've you been?"

Claire dropped her glass.

**A/N: So to be honest, if New Moon hadn't been as awesome as it was (the wolves made the movie for me) I probably wouldn't have posted, but seeing wolf-Jacob, wolf-Sam, and wolf-Paul was enough to get me to procrastinate the massive amounts of work I've been doing.**

**In my defense, I had computer problems, then I was on vacation, then I had more annoying computer problems, then my muse took a vacation, and then I had people visiting me, then school started, then I had to catch up with college people, then I had midterms, now I term papers… Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. Please don't kill me. I know this seems very filler-esque but it is a necessary chapter. I promise.**

**Review replies for the last chapter will probably come in a few days after school lets out for the break.**


	21. Chapter 19: Like Pieces of a Puzzle

**The Half Life**

**Chapter 19: Like Pieces of a Puzzle**

**By: L. B. Dreamer5914**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, still don't own **_**Twilight**_**.**

**A/N: Not dead. I know. Please don't hate me. Before you read, there's a bit more bad language in here. I apologize if it offends anyone. It only happens twice. More notes at the end.**

"Abby?!" Claire launched herself at her sister, "What in the hell are you _doing _here?"

Abby laughed as she stumbled backward, caught off balance by Claire's enthusiastic hello. "Crazy woman, get the hell off of me," she laughed, even as she returned her sister's hug. "You spilled your water, you dumbass."

At that, Claire pulled back from her sister. "Crap." Sure enough, the fallen glass was rolling across the floor, one huge crack running the length of it and water spilling across the tile. Emily was already on her knees beside the ever growing puddle, armed with a roll of paper towels. Sam made his way over to the still-moving glass, and Claire silently thanked the world that at least it hadn't shattered. "Sorry!" She apologized, dashing away from her sister and over to her aunt. "Let me!"

Emily rolled her eyes. "It's only water. It's fine."

"But-"

Emily fixed her with a stern look. "Leave it."

She threw up her hands in defeat and stood up. "Alright, alright." Abby grabbed her hand and pulled her backwards.

"Come on, help me unpack," she said, motioning to her suitcase.

"You're _staying_?"

At this, Abby rolled her eyes. "No. I just flew across the country and brought a suitcase with me to say hello. I'm actually leaving tomorrow."

Claire's brow furrowed, "When _are _you leaving then?"

Abby tossed her hair, "I've been here less than an hour, and you're already trying to get rid of me? Love you too, little sister."

Claire sent a pointed look at Abby's high heeled boots. "Well, sorry for being surprised. You're not exactly the out-doorsy type."

"This isn't exactly uncivilized country," Abby tossed back with a glance at Sam's 60" flat screen. "And don't scowl at my boots; these are my favorites."

Claire rolled her eyes, "Not uncivilized, no, but not New York. And you are a city girl, through and through."

Abby shrugged carelessly. "Eh, I decided it was time for a change of scenery."

Claire scoffed. "Sure you did."

"Well, that, and Emily called me to tell me that my dumbass little sister had gotten herself knee deep in a bout of really awful depression and stupidity and had decided to leave the only home she's ever known."

She should have guessed, of course. Should have known that Emily was the reason Abby was standing in front of her. She had been surprised by how easily Emily had accepted her decision to leave. "This is not the only home I've ever known," she said, petulantly. "I love New York."

"You _like _New York," Abby inserted, "but you've never been happy there. Not the way you are here. So why are you running with your tail between your legs?"

Out of the corner of her eyes, Claire saw Sam reach for Emily and tug her towards the door with one gentle hand on her elbow.

"I'm not running," she said, snapping her gaze back to Abby. "There's just nothing for me here."

"Nothing?" Abby released her hold on her suitcase in favor of crossing her arms. "That's such bull shit, little sister. Do you hear yourself?"

Abby had never been one for gentle words and hand-holding, but Claire found herself more annoyed than usual at her sister's brutal honesty. Already, the joy she'd felt as seeing her sister's familiar face was fading. "I hear myself fine," she snapped. "You don't know what it's been like for me."

"I know it can't be bad enough for you to run away," Abby parried. "Come on, Claire - over a boy? Really? You've gained so much since coming here."

Gained? Claire wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or if she wanted to cry. What had she gained? Heartache? Loss? "It's not worth it, Abby. And you're not going to convince me that it is, so just save your breath." She turned on her heel, determined to put the topic to rest. "Follow me. I'll show you where the guest room is."

Abby caught her by the arm, "Oh, no . We are not leaving it like this. You want to tell me that the pain is too much? Well don't just tell me it hurts then, tell me _why_."

Claire shook her sister off. "Does it not occur to you that digging up all the reasons I'm in pain just makes the pain _worse_?"

"Of course it does-"

"Then what the hell is your angle here?"

"Well, you may have noticed but ignoring the pain doesn't exactly make it go away. You want so desperately for me to understand and support you? Then tell me why I should."

"Because you're my sister. You shouldn't need any other reason."

Abby's expression never changed. "I'm your sister. That's why I'm here. And that's also why I'm not going to let you go back to your life in New York just because of a guy . Claire, I've never seen you as happy and at peace as I did the other day. You'll give this all up? You'd go back to New York to be with mom again?"

"Yes!" Claire exploded all at once. "Yes, I would. Because it hurts. It hurts so bad that it feels like I'm dying every day, and I have to remind myself that the pain I feel here," she slammed her open palm against her chest, above her heart, "isn't real. It's a phantom. It's in my head." The first of another flood of tears began to fall, "I can't _breathe. _I can't breathe because I want him so bad. I can't feel anything but pain because he isn't here, with me. But I can't keep dragging myself behind him the way I've been doing, because it only ends with me standing here, in this kitchen, alone and filled with _ache_.

So yes, I want to run away. I want to hide. Because I can't sit here and not think about him. Because I can't step outside and not be reminded of him. Because I need to feel _alive _again, and I can't. Not knowing that he's just outside that door. Just beyond my reach."

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her pounding heart and push back her tears. "You don't know, Abby. You don't know what it's like."

At this, Abby gave her a sad smile. "Oh, little sister. I understand better than you think." She stepped closer, pulling Claire into a hug. "So much better than you think. And that's why I'm telling you. Ignoring the pain... it doesn't make it go away. Here, you have Emily, Sam, and so many other people who care about you. Who want to help you through this. In New York... it's just Mom. And you and I both know she's never been the best at comfort."

Claire pulled back out of her sister's embrace, turning away to hide her tears. "Mom might not be the best at comfort," she acknowledged, "but she doesn't lie to me; not the way everyone here does."

"What do you mean?"

Claire opened her mouth to respond, but before even the first word could slip from her mouth, there was a forceful knock at the door.

Claire wiped frantically at her face in attempt to hide the fact that she'd ever been crying. She was fairly certain she failed miserably. Regardless, she pushed past her sister and toward the door.

Abby caught her by the wrist. "I'll get it," she said, motioning with her free hand to Claire's tear stained face.

Claire shrugged, "Alright. Thanks."

As Abby disappeared back down the hallway, Claire reached for her sisters bag and began making her way towards the back of the house and the staircase. Unsurprisingly, the suitcase was about twenty pounds too heavy. Likely due to the overwhelming number of shoes.

And then-

"You get the _hell _out of here. What are you doing here? Leave!"

Abby.

With a frown, Claire abandoned the bag and quickly turned to follow her sister's voice toward the front door. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard her sister so irate.

"I came to see Claire."

Jacob. She felt another pang in the pit of her stomach. It was going to be hard saying goodbye to him.

"Well, see Claire another day. Today, _leave_."

"You can't just-"

"Pretty sure I just did. Leave already!"

"I need to see Claire. Quil is-"

"Quil, schmil. He broke my sister's heart. I don't care. Get out."

"Well, I do. Care, that is."

Claire finally rounded the corner, "Jacob? What are you doing here?"

In retrospect "here" might not have been the most appropriate word to use. The fact of the matter was, Jacob had only a foot and one hand in the actual house. And even that was being generous. He's clearly scrambled to stop Abby from slamming the door in his face, and all that he'd managed to wedge between the door and the frame had been his foot, which was currently allowing him just enough space to wrap one large hand around the door and part of his face.

Claire would have laughed if she hadn't been confused.

"Abby, what are you doing? Let him in. Jacob's a friend."

Abby spun around to look at her, hands and body still pressing against the door. "No way."

Claire blinked. "Why-"

"This is ridiculous," Jacob grunted, and suddenly, Abby was stumbling forward and Jacob was fully in the house. He tossed an annoyed glance in Abby's direction, "You weigh all of nothing," he stated by way of explanation. "I was trying to be polite."

Abby very maturely responded by sticking her tongue out.

Jacob rolled his eyes and turned to Claire. "I need to talk to you."

Claire slipped her hands into her pockets, "Ok."

He cast a glance in Abby's direction, shifting uncomfortably for a moment before releasing a resigned sigh. "Quil is a mess."

"Are you serious?" Abby was livid, "Who the hell cares?! He broke _her _heart remember?! Seriously, get _out_."

Jacob sighed, "I know. Believe me, I know. But this is ludicrous. They're _both _miserable."

"Well, his misery is self-inflicted. He should be a grown up and deal with it."

"He is dealing with it; _I'm _the one standing here."

"You're making my point for me. If he cared and he missed her that much, _he would be_."

Jacob growled, running his hand through his hair, "He _can't_."

"No?" Abby was clearly doubtful.

"Physically," Jacob snarled, "he _can't._"

Against her own will, Claire the knot of growing concern in her stomach bubble up into her throat. "What do you mean, Jake? Why can't he come?"

"It's a..." Jacob trailed off, then shook his head. "Fuck this. You want to know? You _really _want to know what our secret is?"

Claire fought the sudden urge to strangle him. "Why are you even ASKING that question? After all you've seen me go through do you really have any doubts?"

Jacob threw up his hands, "I know, I'm sorry." He inhaled, "Quil is going to kill me."

"Jacob!" What was left of her patience was fading quickly, "Either tell me what's going on, or leave. I mean it. I'm done with these games you guys keep playing."

"Youwereright." The words came so quickly out of his mouth, that for a moment, she honestly had no idea what he was saying to her.

"What?" She blinked. And then, "Oh my god."

"You were right," he said again; slower this time, so there was no way she could misunderstand him.

Somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she had already known the truth, but hearing it out loud was another thing entirely.

_You were right. You were right. You were right._

"Claire...?" Jacob's voice cut through her haze. "Claire, are you okay?"

Abby touched her shoulder, "Hey there little sister. What's going on?"

"Claire-" Jacob moved toward her, but Abby cut off his path.

"No way. I don't know what's going on here, but I think you need to leave."

Claire forced her mouth to work instead of just letting it hang open stupidly. "Wait - no."

Better than nothing, but not exactly the coherent sentence she was hoping for. She closed her mouth, swallowed, and tried again.

"Don't leave." She swallowed again, "I'm just... processing."

Jacob nodded, pulling his arm out of Abby's grasp and settling down in one of the kitchen chairs. He motioned with his hands, "Ask me anything."

"How long?"

"Since we were sixteen."

There was something in the way he said it that made her pause. "And... how long ago was that?"

"Fifteen years ago."

She was never very good at math, but thankfully, Abby answered her question for her.

"You're _31_?!"

Jacob nodded. "It's hard to explain. Since the change... we don't age."

"At all?"

"Not as long as we're shifting."

"Shifting?" Abby clutched her hand tightly, "Will someone _please _explain to me what the _hell _is going on."

Jacob's eyes settled on her. "I'm surprised you don't remember. We never hid it while you were here. And you were old enough."

Abby narrowed her eyes at him. "Hid what?" Her brow furrowed.

"Think back. What do you remember? Sam. Quil. Me. The-"

"Pack," Abby finished his sentence, and Claire watched the blood drain from her sister's face. "Oh my god."

There was something odd in Jacob's expression as he watched her sister. "You _do _remember."

Abby touched her hand to her forehead. "Oh...wow...Sam...no wonder he hasn't changed...you, Quil, Embry, Jared, _Seth._"

Jake nodded. "Everyone."

Abby gaped up at him. "Everyone."

"What's it like?"

Jacob turned his eyes back to her, "It's a bit difficult to explain," he laughed mirthlessly, "it's been awhile since I've had to. Shifting is... instinctive. Early on it's hard to control, but after it gets easier. It becomes a natural part of who you are. The pack becomes essential.

After awhile, you realize that without your brothers, you would be lost. When we shift, we share one mind. My thoughts, Quil's thoughts, Embry's thoughts, they're all one voice. If I'm shifted, I can hear my brother's thoughts as clearly as my own. I can _see _what they see. I feel what they feel.

We, each of us, belongs to the pack. We owe it our complete allegiance. We owe our Alpha our unquestioning obedience. We die for him, and for each other, without a second thought."

She furrowed her brow in question. "What's an Alpha?"

"Sam is our Alpha. He leads the pack. His orders might as well be written in stone. We can't say no."

Claire frowned, "Can't?"

"Can't. Physically. We can't do it. Denying his order goes against everything in us. Our physical body will actually bow under the weight of his command," he paused, "that's why Quil can't come to you. Sam told him to stay away."

"What?! Why?"

"Because you're his niece, Claire. And you're running away from La Push because Quil hurt you that badly. He wants to protect you."

She wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to yell. But the truth was, she could understand and even appreciate where Sam was coming from. "Can he take it back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Can he rescind the order?"

"Yes. But you can also work around it."

"What do you mean?"

"Sam told Quil he couldn't come to you. He didn't say anything about you going to him."

"Oh... I... Jake, I don't know if I can do that."

To his credit, there was nothing but understanding on Jacob's face. If anything, his brown eyes softened. "I know," he said, "but I also know that running away from this isn't going to change anything. You're still going to need him. He's still going to need you. It's the nature of your relationship. It's why you're his imprint."

Claire tilted her head, "Imprint? What does that mean?"

The corners of Jacob's mouth twitched, "That's something I'll let Quil explain. He knows what it's like, much better than I do."

"You're assuming I'm going to speak to him again. Why are you doing this?" She swallowed the tears in her throat, "Why now? I begged you all, for so long, and no one would tell me anything. I made myself vulnerable in so many ways, and my heart got shattered because of it. And now you're asking me to do it all over again. To go to him all over again. When you have to know that I made my decision. That I'm leaving."

He looked away from her, his gaze falling somewhere in the woods. "Because beyond everything that's logical, I'm kind of hoping you'll stay. Because I know that you're hurting, but I'm hoping you'll be able to get past that eventually and understand that La Push will always be your home. That the pack will always be your family.

I would understand if you don't trust Quil anymore. Hell, I can't blame you for it in the slightest. But he's a wreck right now; he hasn't eaten, hasn't slept, hasn't showered... he hasn't even come home. Hasn't shifted back. He's operating on animal instincts right now because he's afraid to feel anything else. Because he knows he screwed this up and he can't fix it

He didn't know how to fight for you, but I think he understands now. And if I had had the opportunity, even after everything that happened with… with Bella… to go back and work through everything, I know I sure as hell would have taken it. Nothing is worse than looking back and wondering if you could have done something differently. Or living with the regret of not acting when you had the chance, even if it meant sacrificing a little bit of yourself." He paused, tilting his head as though he had just had a revelation, "But then, that's what love is, isn't it? Giving up part of who you are, so you can be whole with someone else."

"It's not fair for you to do this to me," she whispered. "I made my decisions. I was at peace with them. And now you come here, with all of your thoughts and questions and regrets and you throw me right back down the rabbit hole. I can't keep doing this, Jacob. I can't keep trying alone. It isn't fair. I deserve better."

Jacob nodded again, shoving his hands in his pockets as he took a step back toward the door. "Just... think about it. Think about it for another day. And then make your decision, alright? Just... think about it."

Abby squeezed her hand again, this time in a gesture of solidarity. "She'll think about it," she told Jacob, "but whatever she decides, you need to respect it."

Jacob nodded. "I can do that." He reached for the door knob, "I'll see you later. Even if it's just to say goodbye."

Claire tilted her head yes in response, "Alright."

And then he was gone.

Abby had wanted to accompany her - something about how she shouldn't be alone while undergoing severe emotional distress - but Claire had insisted on being alone. She needed to think. Think without Emily or Abby's eyes watching her. Think without Jacob whispering in her ear about ideals that were pretty but hard to come by in the real world - love and sacrifice and selflessness.

Her mindless walking had led her to the same section of woods that she'd been in before with Matt. Only this time, she'd actually ambled into the forest. Everything was quiet, peaceful, perfect. And she couldn't help but take note for the thousandth time that she really _loved _this place. La Push had become home, and leaving it was anything but ideal.

She ran a hand over her face. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

She spun around so quickly that she fell from the rock she'd been perched on and tumbled toward the dirt. Before her face met the ground, two familiar arms caught her around the waist and steadied her.

"Careful," Quil's voice cautioned.

She blinked up at him in disbelief. He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, and even she could see that he'd lost weight. He looked like someone who'd been run over by life a thousand times.

He looked like she did.

And he was still holding her.

She sent a pointed look to where his arms were still around her, and he hastened to step back, his arms falling limply by his side. "Sorry," he mumbled.

His voice, she noted, was coarse with disuse. Jacob had put a crack in her armor with his words, but looking at Quil, she felt a piece of it fall of entirely.

"I thought you couldn't... Jacob told me that Sam..."

"He... rescinded," Quil said. "Your sister insisted."

"My sister?"

Quil gave a short nod. "Yes. Jacob, too."

"And Sam just... gave in?"

"They're a surprisingly effective team. Even I was surprised." She saw the hints of a wry smile at the corners of his lips. "But then... that isn't what I want to talk to you about."

She glanced down, looking at her nails with sudden fascination. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

He cleared his throat, "I...I'm sorry."

She didn't look up at him, but she could hear him shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm _so _sorry." The raw pain in his voice was almost enough to move her. Almost.

"Fuck," he cleared his throat, and tried again. "The truth is... the truth is that nothing I saw is ever going to be enough. I can't give you a good explanation, because I don't have one. All I can say is I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I _know _I'm an idiot. And if there was a way for me to go back... for me to change how things happened, then I would."

Claire bit her lip.

He cleared his throat again. "Jacob... he... I heard... I heard him say that you were leaving. And I... I saw you with _him_. With that boy from New York. And I thought... God, I thought maybe it was all true. The whole scenario I'd created in my head. And it destroyed me to think about it. To think of you, with him. To think of you being away from me. And who knows, maybe... maybe I _was _right. Maybe you _are _better off with him. Maybe that _is _what you want. But it isn't what _I _want. Because I want you. I _need _you. And I'm not going to pretend that it isn't true. Not anymore. I love you."

Something inside her snapped. "You love me?" She snarled. "You _love _me?!"

He didn't show surprise at her anger; he nodded. "I love you."

"How can you say that to me?" She cried. "How can you say that to me _now_?!"

"There wasn't... there wasn't another time to say it. You're leaving."

"I'm leaving because you _broke _me," she shoved at his chest, and though she knew her strength was nothing compared to his superhuman muscle, it still made her feel better. "I _begged _you. _Begged_. I had _no pride_, I put myself at your feet, _I told you that I loved you _. All that, and you threw it right back in my face. You turned away and walked like I meant _nothing _to you. And now that I'm leaving, now that I'm determined to move on, you come here and you tell me that you _love me_. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I know," he said. "I know I fucked up. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say, but I'm sorry. It broke me too."

"All for what?!" She screamed. "What was the _point_?!"

"You were a child!" The passivity in his voice finally cracked, and she saw a glimpse of raw fear in his eyes. "You were a child. I held you in my arms when you were just a baby. And I knew then that I would do anything to give you what you wanted - to give you a choice. This life isn't easy. The secret keeping, the constant worry, the burden of knowing so much more than anyone else. I didn't want you to be forced into that the way we were."

She reared back in confusion. "I was... Quil... what are you talking about?"

"Jacob didn't tell you?" He asked, voice falling back to a more regular tone. "He didn't tell you about imprinting?"

"No... he said he would leave that to you. That you would know better."

Quil didn't respond immediately. Instead, he settled onto the ground, his long legs unfolding in front of him. He rested one arm on a bent knee. "I... I don't even know where to start. I just...

I was sixteen when I shifted the first time. And I was confused and frightened and had no idea what the hell I was getting into. Sometimes, I loved it. I had my best friends back. Jacob and Embry. They shifted before I did. And the thing is, the first time you phase... you find out how volatile those animal instincts are. Your mother will be yelling at you, and you find yourself losing control over your own body.

It's what happened with Sam and Emily."

"What do you mean?"

Quil motioned to the side of his face with one hand, "The scars. They're not from an accident. Well, not from the kind of accident other people think they're from. They're from Sam. He got upset. He lost control. He was the first one to shift, you know... there was no one there to keep him sane."

"You're lying," she gasped. "Sam would never do that. He loves Emily."

"He didn't have any control," Quil's eyes were burning as he looked at her. "He wanted to kill himself when he saw what he'd done. And he would have, too. But someone was there to stop him."

"Emily," she guessed.

"Emily," he confirmed. "Their bond is like nothing I've ever seen... But I'm not answering your question, am I? Emily is Sam's imprint. Imprinting... it's a wolf thing. There are plenty of different theories about why it happens, but the truth is, we don't know. All we know is that it's irreversible. And it's more powerful than anything else you'll ever feel. We know from the Quilete history that it's rare, but honestly... it's happened to enough of us that I don't know if that's really true.

Wolves imprint on sight. The second they see their imprint, everything else fades to the background. It's not just love... Jacob called it gravity. Like suddenly everything that was tying you to this world - your family, your hobbies, everything - suddenly snaps. It's all gone. And suddenly, the only thing that is keeping you connected to this world, is her.

It doesn't have to be romantic love. Not at the beginning. You are whatever your imprint needs you to be. Brother, friend... it doesn't matter. You live to serve. You are hers. You no longer belong to yourself."

She was beginning to understand where this was going. "And I..." she paused, "I'm your imprint?"

He met her gaze head on, hazel eyes burning into her. "You're my imprint."

"So this... this connection that I feel with you. That's what it is?"

He waved his hands helplessly, "I didn't know that... I didn't know that the connection worked both ways. The truth is... no one had ever turned away from their imprint before. We didn't know what would happen. Didn't think that..."

"Who else has imprinted?"

"Jared," he said. "He imprinted on Kim just a few months after he phased for the first time."

"So Sam, you, Jared. That's it?"

"Paul. Embry."

She blinked in shock. "But... oh my god. Natalia."

He nodded. "Yes."

"So... when you first saw me... I was just a child."

"Yes. And I thought... I thought it was so selfish of me, to pull you into this so young. We had all suffered. We'd all struggled through it. But you deserved a chance to live out life the way you would have otherwise. Without having to worry if I was going to come home alive or not. I wanted that for you more than anything.

I felt selfish, keeping you here."

"But, I... I needed you. I missed you. Always. I always felt empty. I was always looking for you."

He hung his head, "I didn't know that." His voice shook and his eyes were desperate, "I thought you were okay. I resigned myself to it. To not having you. To being without that part of myself. And then, all of the sudden, you were here. Standing in front of me. And I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

I saw that you felt a pull, but I didn't want this for you... I wanted you to have chance. And I thought... God, I don't know what I thought. Embry says I'm a coward. I think he's probably right."

"I deserved for you to give me all the facts. For you to let _me _make that choice."

He nodded.

"How am I supposed to trust you now? How am I supposed to trust you to let me make my own choices? To let me _live_."

His eyes were anguished. "Help me fix this," he said, "please, tell me how to fix this."

She ran a hand through her hair, "I don't... Quil, I don't...You can't do this to me. You can't just come back and expect me to fall into your arms. That's not the way it works. That's not the way this works."

"If I could undo everything," he said again, "I would."

"I thought..." She pulled her knees up to her chest, "I thought you didn't want me."

"No," the raw pain in his voice made her flinch. "God, no. I just didn't want you to want me. You deserve better."

"I always wanted you."

"Wanted? So... when I saw you and... That's what you want then?"

She allowed herself to truly study him. To take in the full impact of his shaking voice, his sunken eyes and his shrinking frame. His crumpled clothing. And she remembered, as he spoke, the heartbroken howl she'd heard just a minute after kissing Matt.

She tried to imagine, for a second, what it would feel like to see him in someone else's arms.

Just the thought made her sick.

"I don't want to hurt anymore."

The words slipped out without her permission. And even to her own ears, they sounded weak. They sounded small.

_Running away won't fix anything_.

He nodded, a wall coming down over his eyes. as he stood up. "I understand."

The bile rose quickly up into her throat. No, no, no. He didn't understand. He thought she didn't want him. He didn't understand.

"I'll go."

But she _did _want him, she just didn't want the version of him that hurt her. The one that knew she was in pain, but did nothing. She wanted the Quil who took care of her. The one who loved her.

He was walking away, and she thought again of all those hundreds of dreams she'd had over the years. Dreams of running after him. Dreams of him slipping through her fingers.

And in flash, she understood. She truly understood.

She understood that he'd looked at her, a small two year old with no cares in the world, and he'd wanted more for her. It was his insecurities and his perceived inadequacies that had kept pulling her from him. His sense of unworthiness. And now... now it was her pride that was pushing them apart.

They were fools - both of them - for not seeing it before.

"Wait!"

He paused, mid step, but he did not turn around.

"Wait," she said again, softer this time. "I need you."

He turned, and his hazel eyes were wet with tears.

"I need you so much it hurts," she shrugged helplessly. "It doesn't matter that I don't want to. I still do. And I want you more than I don't." She laughed. "I love you." The truth bubbled out of her mirthlessly, helplessly, hopelessly. "I can't breathe properly without you. And I-"

In two long strides he had her in his arms. "God," he buried his head in her hair, "thank you. I was so scared. I thought... I thought for certain... I thought I'd lost you."

She moved to stand on her tiptoes, winding her arms around him and breathing deeply. He smelled just the way she remembered - like the forest. Like home. "Never," she reassured him, "you could never lose me. It doesn't matter how angry I am." She drew back to cup his face in her hands, "But we're together now, and that means no more secrets. It means we talk about things."

He nodded. "I promise. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes," she confirmed. "Now shut up and kiss me."

Quil laughed, ducked his head, and obeyed her command.

**A/N: THE END. Mostly. Epilogue to come. It's halfway done and should be up within a week or two (knock on wood). Jacob's story, also to come. Prologue is written, first chapter is halfway finished. We'll get there. Reviews are love. Ask me anything. Yell at me for taking so long – I deserve it. I'll try and answer all your questions in the next round.**

**I want to throw something out there about Jake's story though, so there are no illusions about what's to come – it will NOT be a Jacob imprint story. I know, I know. That's not usually how this kind of thing goes, but… here's the thing. I really liked that part in the series where Jacob goes off about how much he hates imprinting. How it made things slightly… less real. Because I think he's right.**

**Call me naïve, but I think a lot of the best things about falling in love come with the obstacles and the **_**choosing **_**to work through them. And that's on both sides. With imprints, I kind of have to believe that the wolf-side of things is absolutely obligatory. There's no way for a wolf to just come themselves off from their imprint; it would be like cutting off a limb. And while that's not to say everything will work out perfectly (ahem, see above) I think you lose a fair amount in falling for someone that way (hypothetically, because obviously wolves and imprinting aren't real…sadly). So my point is, I want Jacob to have a choice. I want him to fall in love the human way. And I want him to go through all the heart ache and awkwardness of piecing himself back together and falling in love all over again because the poor guy deserves it.**

**So, before the A/N, which is already ridiculously long, gets any longer, let me just say that when **_**In Pieces **_**makes its way onto Fanfiction. Net sometime in the next week, expect it to be a more serious piece than THL ever was. It's going to delve a lot deeper into issues on both sides of the romance. **


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